Fast Lane
by The Cee Factor
Summary: Suze is on the pathway to destruction, and she doesn’t seem to care. Or does she? A meeting with a stranger may cause her to rethink her priorities. Partially AU
1. Need For Speed

**Summery: Suze is on the pathway to destruction, and she doesn't seem to care. Or does she? A meeting with a stranger may cause her to rethink it her priorities. AU, overall pairings undecided. Currently P/S, but hey, it could change. **

**Disclaimer: I am no Meg Cabot, therefore not the lucky chick who owns the Mediator… and of course Jesse. **

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**Fast Lane **

Chapter One

Trees were whipping past as we drove down the dirt rode, making them green and brown blurs, like colours in a blender. But all this did was make me put the pedal down even harder.

"Suze…" a drunken laugh erupted from the back seat, "where are you going?"

What can I say? I have a need for speed.

Kelly jumped into the front passenger seat. "You're like, sorta going a little fast right?" she slurred.

Fast? Not fast enough. I couldn't answer her really. I mean, it was hard enough trying to make out the road when everything is really dizzy and lop-sided. And she expected me to answer her?

Not even.

You see, this is what my life had become. When I had first moved to Carmel from my town in New York, I already hated the place. The sunshine, the happiness, the chipper "how are you's" when they really couldn't give a shit. I had to move from my home, and my best – lets face it, _only_ – friend I had, and give up pizza, subways and everything I had ever known for sunshine, the beach and a bikini. Okay, so it wasn't that bad, I had met some interesting people since moving here.

Not that it really mattered. I was a freak of nature anyway.

But one thing I had noticed was that Carmel, California, housed many more freaks exactly like myself. 3, to be exact. Father "be good, please god" Dominic and the Slater brothers Jack, a whiny little shit I was forced to babysit over the summer, and his hotter-than-lava brother Paul, my boyfriend. All Mediators, all freaks.

Just like me.

I had always been misunderstood in New York, and instantly filed away into the 'hopeless cases' pile. Mainly of course, just because I can see the dead, does not mean everyone else can too. So on more than regular occasions, I'm seen talking to myself, or in pretty compromising situations where I'm bought home by the police. But this hasn't stopped the ghosts though. They come, flocking me like seagulls around a French fry (another lesson I had learnt since arriving in Carmel – don't feed the seagulls, unless you want to be mauled by them and Sister Ernestine alike) causing me to become, in the eyes of my peers and family, a fully-fledged crazy-ass chick in need of a dire reality check.

I know that my mom had hoped by coming to California I'd be able to make a fresh start. But that had gone on deaf ears, to be swept away by the salty air. Put it simply, I now did not care. I didn't care about my future, my lovely job of being a liaison between the living and the dead, school… nothing. And my friends – the 'in' crowd at Junipero Serra Mission Academy – seemed to like life that way. So I fit in instantly.

Doesn't mean I really overly liked them. To be totally honest, I didn't really like anyone much anymore.

But anyway, back to the car. I knew, somewhere in my mind, that it's wrong to drink and drive. Not to mention speed. But my other friends were way more smashed up than I was. I was mostly sober. All though, sober isn't exactly what you would call me right about now.

Okay, I admit I was pretty smashed up to. A typical Friday night. So sue me.

My mum would chuck a fit, probably rip a few hairs out of her skull, but she was too involved with my new-step brothers, Doc, Sleepy and Dopey, not to mention my step-father Andy and her new job at the news station, to really give a rats ass about me. She'd get over it.

She always does.

I know, I know. I'm selfish, I'm stupid. I've heard it all. I've seen it all. I'm a person void of practically any emotion now, with not a care in the world. I don't need emotion. I've seen what it does to people, and I don't need it. Don't ask me how I got this way, I guess just on the way over to California, while I was looking at the palm trees and crystal sea, I decided I wouldn't bother anymore. I wasn't going to try and fit in, do my best, be the best I could possibly be. I think this was because I had left my old self in New York. What did my old self used to be?

Who cares? I forgot, I guess.

But even though I hadn't bothered trying to fit in, I had anyway. The first day at school, I'd worn practically all black, and sat next to one of the Abercrombie-and-Fitch clones that populated most of my class. But they seemed to take an instant liking to me, probably because I was halfway more interesting than their French manicures, and who had the best tan. I guess you could call that a compliment, most definitely if Kelly Prescott found you interesting, mainly because aside from a few magazine clippings and dust bunnies, I doubt there is all that much in her head. Granted, she probably had more _on_ her head than there was _in_ it. But she was one of my best friends now. Well, more or less.

"Geez, Suze… 125?" Paul laughed hysterically as he eyed the dashboard. 125 … not bad Suze.

My boyfriend was so out of it. And so were the remaining people in my car.

This is the last time I'm letting them anywhere near the sauce. _Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, you didn't exactly restrain either did you? _

They kept talking to me, either claiming that 125m/h was pretty fast, or generally making a comment about how fast we were barrelling down that road. Not that Kelly and Debbie really talked about anything with much more substance – or intelligence – than this, but I tried to block them out. I just felt like the faster we were going, the faster I could get away from this life… my new life. I just wanted to let go.

Debbie leaned forward, trying to steady herself with the remaining hand that wasn't clutching a Cruiser, and switched radio stations. "Ride" by the Vines blurred to life, and she squealed, spilling some of her Pineapple drink sloshing onto the back seat. Paul and Debbie began singing at the top of their lungs, while Kelly next to me drummed her hands on the dashboard. Don't get me wrong, I like the song too, but not even _I'm_ that drunk to go totally loco.

The song was about to wrap up when I noticed the flashing lights. Freaking hell. Not again.

I was presented with two options to say the least. Pull over like a good little girl, or press the metal faster and make a run for it. I was contemplating the latter when the singular police car overtook me. So flight, I knew, was no longer an option.

I was sober enough to realise that, at least.

So I pulled over, shut off the engine, and awaited the fate that had come so regularly in the months I had been in California. A old ride in the police car, either home or to the station so my parentals could pick me up.

Joy. Can't you see why I hate it here?

"Oh nooooo!" Debbie began squealing. "My Dad's soooo gonna ground me for this!"

This seemed to grab a reaction from both Paul and Kelly, who had before Debbie seemed completely oblivious, tuning into the next song that was blaring full bore.

"Oh shit!" Paul exclaimed. Before I could even blink, he grabbed Debbie's bottle and flung it out of the open window into the woods. "I would rather he not find that in here," he said.

I placed my hands on the steering wheel, 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock, while I waited for what was going to happen next. I watched the police officer, a beefy large man who could probably use a few months on Jenny Craig if the coke in his hand was any indication, walk over. My driver's licence, which I had only had for a few weeks, would probably be suspended, in the scenario he would check that I was drinking.

Go me.

He bent down and shined a torch into the car through the open window. "Hello ma'am,"

"Officer," I replied cooly. I may as well act the part. I mean, I had fraternised with police officers enough. I knew only Kelly and Debbie had a few times, if not at all. Oh well, they need to toughen up.

"Do you know how fast you were going?"

I shrugged. Last time I had checked I had clocked 125. Who knows how fast it was a few minutes after that?

"About 126. And do you know what the speed limit through this region is ma'am?"

Shaking my head, I said calmly, "No I don't officer,"

"120. You were at least 6 miles and hour over the speed limit. Does this register?"

I nodded again. Oh well. At least it was only 6 miles. The continuation of me holding onto a licence may be still hanging in there.

He kept rambling on, but I wasn't paying attention? Why should I? I knew what was coming.

"… therefore being alone out here, with no parental guardian,I think you should take a little ride downtown with me,"

Aww, what did I tell you? Give that girl a prize.

So that's how I ended up sitting on a plastic chair, watching the same officer who had brought me here talking to my mother. She had plastered on her face the same look she wore when she talked about bombings and mass murders. Although I knew what was on her mind.

The minute I stepped home, _I_ was going to be the one murdered.

A person sat down next to me and I barely noticed. I was too busy thinking of what my punishment was. Grounding? Nah, that never stopped me. No phone, tv? Doesn't matter, I needed to practice on my kickboxing more than anything, and I didn't need those things for that. Allowance cut? I'd just get a job. Confined to my room? Yes please. An excuse to not have to talk to my step-brothers. Or step-father either.

"What have you done this time?" The guy asked. Oh yeah, him. The one who had been sitting next to me. Just goes to show how 'aware' I am around here. Not.

I shot a look sideways, and did a double-take. I recognised him from somewhere, I knew I did… but where?

"Speeding," I said simply, taking a better look at him. On a second full glance, I would say he'd probably be a little older than I was, 3 years give or take. And did I mention that he was really hot? Not in the pretty-boy kind of way, but in the dangerous, mysterious way. He was probably in here for something too. Drugs? Stealing? Neither would surprise me.

"Can you go 2 months without this?"

I fully turned to look at him, and took in his jet black hair, eyes so brown they seemed almost black, tanned skin… and Spanish, by the sound of his voice. "How would you know? Or care, for that matter?" I asked rudely.

He just smiled, revealing white, even teeth. Major hottie material. Hotter, than, I'm sorry to say, my boyfriend Paul.

"Because I work here,"

Oh yeah. No wonder why I recognised him. He'd been working here every time I had been dragged in by the police. Go figure.

"Uh-huh. So you're not in trouble, unlike myself?"

"No," he shook his head slowly. "My father makes me work here, filing things. You're Susannah Simon, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Suze," I corrected, "And you probably know coz you've dealt with my mug shot right?" I half-joked. No, don't get carried away. I don't have a mug-shot. Yet.

I'm just what you would call a juvenile delinquent. I haven't done too much bad shit.

Just stuff that annoy the crap out of the police, and apparently my parents too.

"No, not because of that. I recognised you, that's all,"

I looked up at him, and then wished I didn't. Did I also tell you that his eyes are really warm and caring? _No, wait a second Suze… it's all in your head. You don't care. You don't care._

"How?"

"Your brother, Jake? I go to his college,"

Of course. But what really surprised me was that Jake even had friends. All I thought he had was a Pizza job and a goal to save up for a camaro. He wasn't awake to think about much else.

I eyed my mother who had obviously finished talking to the officer. "Oh well," I said softly, trying to determine wether I would get totally killed or just skinned, "Nice talking to ya. See you round," I stood up, and waited.

"Bye, _querida_,"

I didn't even get the chance to tell him that if he called me any Spanish shit he could stick it where the sun don't shine before mom scooped me up and shipped me out of the police department.

I was so dead.

**

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A/N: I had this idea a little while ago, so I decided to write it. Whether I get any reviews or not depends on whether I continue, so please can you push that cool button and tell me what you thought? Criticise me or be nice, I don't care (although I really don't want any flaming).**


	2. The Ass Files

Chapter Two – The Ass Files

"What were you THINKING young lady!" my mother screeched almost the instant I had stepped across the welcome doormat.

Why do they even bother putting a word like that on the front porch? The meaning is a blatant lie. Well, at least it is to me. Home stopped feeling welcome a long time ago.

Especially now, when you're mothers' voice no longer sounds sickening sweet (which she has quite taken to since marrying Andy), but rather a pretty decent imitation of a bird being strangled. And instead of letting me answer her question, she just kept going.

"I have no idea what has gotten into your head! What were you thinking?" she repeated, "I thought I had raised you better than this! You'll be heading off to college in a few short years Susannah! How do you think this makes me feel? How do you think this makes me _look_?" I guess it's really hard to stop and allow decent oxygen flow once you get the ball rolling. Or, in my case, the only rolling that was being done was my eyes. I was totally used to this.

Of course all my mother was worried about was looking bad. She was worried about the fact that one of these days she'll go on Live At 6 and have to talk about juvenile delinquents vandalising a shop or whatever, knowing (as well as the rest of her colleagues) that her own daughter was one of them. I take the greatest pride in being the only thing – apart from my father's untimely death of course – that has ever gone wrong in her perfect life. I'm the only disappointment, and I say that with the largest amount of understatement. I would fall into the 'atrocious nightmare of a teenage daughter' and no one would bat an eye.

So much so that Dopey looks like a saintly angel in her eyes. Yeah, I guess I'm that much of a let down. It's sorta refreshing if you think about it.

But like I've mentioned before, I really don't care. Not anymore. At least it's good to know that some people, like your mother, will have at least one speed bump in their life, like the rest of us.

Her speed bump mainly being me existing in general.

And if what I did – things like this – would cause my mom to take her head out of her Brady-Bunch perfect little world and smell the daffodils of my own, then it would be worth it. Then maybe she would understand what I'm going through, what with my sudden move to Carmel, and having to leave Gina behind and all that jazz. Then maybe she would stop wishing for a daughter she'll never have and embrace the one she's already got.

Yeah. Right.

And then Andy comes out, with his wooden spoon dripping with some foreign red substance and starts getting into me as well. The thing I miss the most about New York is when the police brought me home, I only had one singular parent to listen to, enduring them while they burnt off their share of the steam. Now I have two. Isn't life just joyous?

Obviously it was just about to get even better. Remember that list of punishments I had gone through at the police station before Jake's college _amigo_ interrupted? Yeah, well turns out on their own, they're really not that bad.

But all of them? At the same time? I could get sent to a detention centre and get better treatment.

As I half-listened to Andy rave on about 'fresh starts, new beginnings, looking out for your future, respecting your family, being lucky you have what you have' – a speech in which I have practically memorised, he has recited it so many times – I was really thinking about college. To be disgustingly truthful, I hadn't really thought all that much about what I was going to do if I finished. Key word of course being _if_. But it got me thinking. I had no goals. At the moment my only goal was to let go of everything and escape. Will I ever get what I want? Will it ever be enough?

So, after being unjustly thrown into the slammer aka my room, and cut off from phone, TV, internet and stereo, not to mention grounding with a money shortage, I took the time to stare at the ceiling while I was lying on my bed. I was screwed, and I knew it, but it just didn't hit me. I didn't receive the reality check that mom and Andy were obviously hoping for. Not then, anyway. I wouldn't have for a very long time.

All I saw was the fact that once school finished I was screwed. Game over for Susannah Simon. I'll become a hairdresser or a waitress or something.

Stupid, but whatever. Life was stupid. I'm only fitting in with the plan.

* * *

The next morning I woke up in a fairly good mood, you know, despite everything else. I slipped on a pair of black pants and a midriff-baring black top. Needless to say, my mother hates my fashion sense, but it could be worse. Well, it _could be_.

As I passed the phone on the way to the kitchen, I realised with a jolt I hadn't even thought about Paul once since the police station. Even though I was banned from the phone, it wouldn't matter if no one was around. I could risk it. I mean, he was my boyfriend, and I liked him a lot I guess.

I guess. You see? That's how sure I am about our relationship.

But since it's not like he'll ever know this (heck, I'll never tell him, jeez) I think I'm free to say that he's not my dream guy. There are so many things I don't like about him, some of them being the fact all he wants to do is a) party b) drink and c) get in my pants. Okay, I'm not much better at a and b, but I only do that so excessively when I'm with him so it doesn't give him even more opportunities to get around to c.

Even though I'm his girlfriend, I'm not interested in losing my virginity to Paul Slater, no matter how much else I do wrong. I'll let him do anything else, but sex is out of the question. Not that this resolution stops him from trying.

Hopefully you can understand I'm not as bad as everyone thinks.

And I'm not completely horrible obviously, if that morning was anything to go by. Mom and Andy were out, counting on Sleepy to watch me. As if. I was bending down, trying to see if we had any decent OJ left that wasn't contaminated by backwash in the fridge. And this is a fairly difficult thing to ask for if you have 3 stepbrothers, take it from me. I must have been in there for at least 5 minutes, sorting through the numerous bottles on the shelves when I heard an amused voice behind me, threaded with a Spanish accent.

"Maybe there's something better on a different channel?"

I groaned and looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, the guy from the night before was sitting on one of our stools in the kitchen and smirking. Jeez, what is our place? Like, some walk in for the weird and bitchy?

Not to say that this guy was bitchy. I take the cake for that. I'm talking about weird. Does this guy not have a home or something?

"What are you doing here?" I asked shortly, and began shifting everything back into place. I was so outta here.

Thankyou, ladies and gentlemen. My morning has been officially ruined.

"Studying with Jake," he answered. "What you looking for?"

I stood up and brushed the hair out of my face, and holding a soul survivor of OJ. I lifted it up. "A half-way decent breakfast. And next time you just waltz into my kitchen, make sure you don't make it so obvious you were staring at my ass. Later,"

My totally awesome exit (if I do say so myself) was ruined by his laughter. I stopped dead and faced him, one of the only guys left in this world who didn't know what would happen if they laughed or teased me. Granted, I didn't really want to punch him and ruin his face, but when you gotta go around defending your reputation you don't spare details like that.

"What is so funny?" I said acidly.

He shook his head, his laughter subsiding a little. "You've got a pretty high opinion of yourself don't you? Do guys regularly check out your butt? Were you just assuming?"

I could feel my cheeks turning slightly pink. Okay. One two three four five six seven eight nine ten, Suze. Just count to 10. Don't hit him yet.

"I'd rather go around assuming than being a smart-ass who's a step away from being mutilated," I glared at him.

That cut him right off, looking a little hurt. "Oh, that hurt _querida_, that really did. I was only teasing you,"

Again with that freaking Spanish word! Bloody hell, does he do this to EVERYONE he meets? Or just to one's he wants to annoy?

Because it was working.

I walked back into the kitchen and sat up on the bench, crossing my legs and looking at him like I meant business. And my god, if he did not get it then I'd have no choice but to let my natural course of action run it's round. _And that would be terrible_, I told myself, as I looked at the panes of his face, strong jaw and black hair.

Wait. Wait wait. What, Suze Simon, are you doing? What have we gone through before? Emotions, bad. Must treat everyone bad, even super Latino hottie sitting in front of you. No, you should treat him even _worse_.

"Okay _amigo_, one," I held up my index finger, "no Spanish name calling. If you're gonna insult me, at least do it in English. And two," up went a second finger, "I don't like being teased. I don't take kindly to it, and never will,"

He blinked in response. Once. Twice. He kept doing this until I was afraid he was at exactly the same brain-wave level as Jake, and I was going to have to repeat it again, slower, word for word. God I hope not, too many cute guys these days already have mushrooms were their brains should be.

"_Querida_ is not an insulting word Susannah,"

I shook my head. He still wasn't getting it. "I don't care, don't call me it,"

He nodded and tried to hide a grin. My eyes raked his, and I instantly felt something weird. Just by looking in his eyes. How weird. Thinking it might be better if I don't continue it, my gaze strayed down to the laces of my Converse's and I began pulling at the laces. I guess this contributed to the awkward silence, and I was only too grateful when the doorbell rang. I quickly jumped off the bench and answered it, and I was surprised to see that it was Paul.

"Hey," I answered cautiously.

He grinned, showing all of his pearly whites. "Hey babe, a bunch of us are heading to the Point in 20 minutes and climbing down to that beach. Joining us or what?"

Now it was my turn to blink. "I'm grounded," I said quite lamely. To tell you the truth, I wasn't in the mood to hang out with anyone. I was interested in a very quiet Saturday morning.

He laughed, and rubbed my shoulder like it was some colossal joke. "But that never stops you Suze. Come on, please?" Paul looked at me all sulkily with his puppy-dog eyes. I sighed, and relented. "Sure, just let me put this away," I motioned to the carton of juice in my hand and went back into the kitchen.

Don't start getting the wrong idea. The puppy-dog eyes, especially if used by Paul Slater, do not work. Write that down for future reference in case you ever meet him yourself. Nope, I just relented because I knew that if I decided to go, the world would be more peaceful for all of us.

Whatever.

Jake's friend was still in the kitchen when I returned, drinking a glass of water. Opening up the fridge, I found the carton's rightful place in the very back, and raked my fingers through my slightly curled hair.

"Do me a favour," I asked, "don't tell Jake where I've gone. Say I'm up in my room or something,"

He grinned. "Running again are we _querida_?"

I knot my brows up in confusion. I had no idea what he meant by that, but I guessed it had something to do with me going out or something.

"Don't call me that," I answered dully. "Later,"

"Bye _querida_,"

I began walking down the hall. Obviously the guy just wasn't getting it.

"Look…" I began.

He stood up as he too looked like he was about to leave and go back into the loungeroom. "Call me Jesse,"

I nodded.

"And _querida_?"

There he goes again.

"What?"

Jesse grinned a little before saying, "And at the risk of being er, _mutilated_, I'll just say that yes, you were right."

I stared at him for a little while, as he walked away, trying to get over the fact that for probably the first time in my life, someone had said that I was right. And obviously being quite a mind reader, he added, "I was staring at your butt,"

_(A/N: I know this is a very different Jesse to the one we know and love, but I thought, especially for this story, that I give him a bit of a 21st century edge. He is in college after all)_

Oh. That. Hah, I knew it.

I was still reeling from what Jesse had complimented me on an hour later. I know, like what? Suze Simon feels a little happy about what some guy has said. And he wasn't even her boyfriend.

Jeez, am I like in another dimension or something? Coz if I am, I'd like to wake up now, before I get all mushy.

"Hey Suze, what you so happy about?" a girl I knew called Roxy asked, plunking herself down next to me and taking a rather large gulp of a beer she had just opened.

Did I mention it was only 11 in the morning? Not even I'm that stupid to be drinking this early. Brad had tried force-feeding me one a few minutes before, and I told him that he could eat my ass with a spoon.

Hello? Hangover much?

"I'm not happy," I picked up a shell and threw it into the crashing waves a few feet in front of me. This beach was one of the few in Carmel you couldn't swim in, not if the next time you step foot on solid ground you wanted to be dead. Unless you're a suicide artist, than that's fine by me.

Roxy snorted, before answering sarcastically, "Right. You're tragically depressed, which is why you have this goofy smile on your face,"

My god. Goofy? What am I, like Kelly or something? She's beginning to rub off on me.

"I'm just happy it's a Saturday,"

"Why?" she tossed her now empty can into the water, "I mean, didn't you get arrested and thrown into the slammer last night?"

Yeah, I did get thrown into the slammer. Just not the one she was thinking of.

"Not exactly," I watched as Paul, Damien and Brad were each daring each other as to how far they could tread into the water without being sucked under by the rips. Idiots. Not that I really expected much from Brad, but Paul? I mean, the guy reads Heidegger. You can't blame me for thinking he is a _little_ smart.

Okay, big smart. I can't even read Harry Potter.

Roxy shook her head. "Oh well, that's what I heard from Debbie,"

Now it was my turn to snort. I am so sure. Having to sit in the police station for half an hour was obviously her idea of disgraceful purgatory. Spare me, I am surrounded by wusses.

And Debbie can't even see ghosts.

Although I can't wish enough how I could be like everyone else, living in a state of total obliviousness. After a few hours at the beach, Paul offered to walk me home again.

"How much trouble do you think you'll get in?" he asked as he led me over to a tree at the side of my house.

I giggled, as if I was imagining the prospect. "Maybe they're not home," I said, before he took my lips in his.

Yeah, actually, Paul wasn't that bad at all. Especially when he kissed me like this. He was a god kisser, and by god did he know it.

His hands went from my shoulders to my waist, pinning me to the tree as he came in even closer, moulding his body against my own. As I snaked my own arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his hair, he trailed kisses from my mouth to my neck and lightly sucked on it. The usual buzz I got from kissing Paul elevated into something a little more, and I pulled him in even closer, kissing him passionately in response. _Only Paul could make me feel this way_, I thought as I pushed my hands up and down his rock-hard chest, revelling in the ridges of his abs. Um, I may be a freak who communicates with ghosts pretty much on a daily basis, but I am still a girl. And when there are abs _right there_, you can't blame me for wanting to take advantage of it.

It was only when he slowly started slithering his hands underneath my top towards my bra did I realise just how close I was to giving into temptation. And, especially where Paul Slater was concerned, if I didn't stop him now, I wouldn't be able to.

Grasping his hands, I quickly wriggled out from underneath him, taking care not to snag my shirt on the tree. He groaned, and tried to pull me back. "Come on Suze…"

I shook my head, glancing at my watch. "I have to get up into my room before my rents return and realise I'm not home,"

He looked like he was about to protest even more, but I kissed him softly on the cheek and smiled a little. "I'll talk to you later,"

"Whatever," I heard him mumble as I walked up the gravel driveway and began climbing the tree that grows in front of the porch roof. Which, nicely enough, is attached to my bay window. You'd think that leaving my boyfriend on such a bad note would make me feel horrible, but it didn't. I just felt relieved.

True, when he kissed me like that, especially now, I felt like it would be too easy just to forget the little promise I had made to myself. But that promise, I knew, was the only thing that I had managed to keep. It was my bargain.

If I lost the rest of my innocence, I had lost myself forever.

And even though I truly wouldn't have spared a thought for any other aspect of my life that was so freaking screwed up, this I felt very strongly about. And Paul wasn't going to take it away from me, no matter how good he makes me feel when he touches me.

There you go. If there's one thing you can like about Suze Simon, it's the fact that she exercises restraint. And a lot of it. It's not an Oscar, but beggars can't be choosers.

Mom and Andy we're never home on the weekends – it was a Saturday, and they never came back until at least 6 o'clock at night, for dinner. Especially when they're having a celebration like today for Andy's show on cable, for their 100th episode or whatever. I waited until Paul was far away from my house, and I began to climb back over my window seat and onto the roof. It was about time I finally did what I was made a freak for.

I was going to mediate.

* * *

The ghost had come to me the previous morning, pleading for my help. Like, literally, _pleading_. She was a girl around the age of 22, and wanted me to make sure her family give her diamond necklace to her dear cousin that lived on the other side of Carmel.

Exactly. How much more moronic can you get? It's weird what kind of thing holds people back. Especially dead people.

So I was on my way to see the stupid ghost so she could tell me where this house was, and she could quit bugging me. I couldn't do this with Paul, because he doesn't believe we were placed here to be liaisons. And he doesn't converse with ghosts to donate money to charity, I tell you. But whatever Paul decided to do with his mediating techniques didn't bother me, but I was interested in using mine for what I did in New York.

At least it gets rid of them, right?

I strolled down my street towards the deceased girl's house. It was an apartment situated right in front of a cliff overlooking the beach; a few many would kill for. And a few have, but that's a different story.

I walked over to where we had planned to meet – on the other side of a row of trees planted alongside the Big Sur cliff, so we couldn't be disturbed. Only if you were looking carefully could you see us. Well, me, because to the best of my knowledge, no other mediators live here. So it was just me and her. Only this time I saw the ghostly chick, she wasn't alone.

There it was, right in front of me. Should have been my first sign I was about to engage in some old-school ass-kicking. But being the total mind-job I am, I would probably need something like a large Las Vegas-style billboard with freakin neon lights and free gifts before I realised something like this. No, I'm not dumb. Granted, I ain't your average genius, but I'm not a total hopeless case.

Just say that I suffer from choice memory loss.

I remember the stuff I care about. Forget the stuff I don't. And in this case I only just distinctly remembered I wasn't the nicest to this girl the day before. Don't even think about going all Father-Dommy on me right now, I'm warning you. That chick had woken me up at the unlawful hour of 5:30 am. FIVE FREAKING THIRTY! On a SCHOOL DAY!

Um. Wouldn't you be a slight bit PMSey on her too?

Sauntering up to the girl, she gave me a look that would have killed me had looks been fatal. Thankyou.

"Okay, are we doing this or what?" I asked impatiently, ignoring her glares. I get glared at all the time. No big.

The guy she was talking to, presumably her boyfriend, since they'd both died in a car crash together, stood up. "Why did you hit her yesterday? All she wanted was your help, you little mediator twit,"

I straightened up, looking at him dubiously. "It was one tiny slap," Okay. One big slap. Like there's a difference anyway! She wouldn't stop wailing in my ear! And she ain't no opera singer.

"You," she cried, pointing to her cheek, "made me bruise!"

I rolled my eyes. Sheesh, she was a ghost! Ghosts could heal bones in mere seconds flat. I doubt a BRUISE would have hurt much, IF AT ALL. I pointed this out to her, although it isn't very tactful. But, as I've mentioned to countless people, I'm not exactly the master of tact. I don't have a tactful hair on my head.

But you can sleep peacefully knowing that once her boyfriends fist flew outta no where, I understood I was going to be grinding some nasal cartilage into the pavement on that peaceful Saturday morning. Cough. I dodged it, and landed an uppercut underneath his chin. And for good measure – since his girlfriend was gaping with her mouth wide open like she was planning on catching flies or whatever – I punched her too on my evolution around. The other cheek this time, you know, to even it up. It's not like she wasn't going to hit me eventually. All ghosts do. I was just getting in first. You know, dusting the canvas, laying the foundation or whatever it is you want to refer to it as.

Doing this, of course, only seemed to aggravate both parties. Me, because my knuckles were beginning to hurt, and them, well… I guess her boyfriends bleeding mouth and her screaming were self-explanatory. And all I had set out a few minutes before was to deliver a necklace to her cousin. Oh, do I ever. I'll deliver.

I won't go into specifics about how I managed to get in the position I was a few moments later – although I do admit that when it looks like I'm losing a fight, I tend to sink low. Very, very low – but it was a position that didn't make me feel the most comfortable. I was hanging upside down.

Yep, you read right. Did I mention I'm wearing a midriff top? Thank god it's tight fitting.

And they were taking turns in punching the wind out of my stomach. Well, Trista – which I'd found out her name was – was anyway, because her boy toy was holding me by the legs, and she seemed to be enjoying the fact she was pummelling the shit out of me.

That's something I really don't appreciate. I DO like wearing bikini's to the beach. And I have a sneaking suspicion it'll be one-pieces for the next few weeks. So I did what any other red-blooded mediator would do in the same situation.

In the unlikely scenario a red-blooded mediator chick who is just as stupid as me existed.

I dacked her.

Man, did that make her stop or what? Makes me rethink that whole saying, 'make sure you're wearing your nicest undies, you have no idea when you'll get hit by a bus'. She was wearing pink frillies. I kid you not. This chick was like, 22, and she was wearing frillies. Not that I'm one to condescend. It's not like you exactly see where people's butts go, and what covers them, but I prefer to keep mine in Bonds, and No Romeo. You know, with the butterflies.

Oh shut up.

So, just to make a little light of the situation (more of a celebration, considering I could start to feel my abs again), I started to be a smart-ass and sing a song I'd once heard. Yeah, the first time I heard it being sung towards me was memorable. The guy singing it lost 3 teeth that day, but it's perfectly okay when I sing it to another. Perfectly okay. "I see London, I see France, I see Trista's underp-"

Her boyfriend, obviously fed up with my really (if I do say so myself) wonderful singing, he flung me into the nearest tree trunk. It's bad enough I have multiple bruises on my stomach. I have to double that with eating bark. After getting over the momentary shock of feeling as if all the bones were breaking in my body, I sagged against it and pushed myself away.

Until, of course, my head came into contact with the tree again, and my arms were pinned behind me with the weight of her guy.

Ouch to the extreme.

My shoulder joints were aching because of the unlawful angles in which they kept getting tugged, and I felt my lip split, and trickle of blood roll down my cheek. I must have looked a picture. Didn't stop me from being stupid, of course.

"All this because I slapped your girlfriend? Man, isn't this a little bit of overkill?" I muttered sarcastically.

I felt my arms being released, and the weight that was pushing me into the tree decrease. Hah, there you go. I talked to them, in a nice manner.

Much. But Father Dom would be so proud anyway.

That is, until her boyfriends hands wrapped around my stomach, and he dematerialised, taking me with him, onto one of the very top branch of the tree were seconds ago under. My head was woozy from the quick trip, and also the fact that I was, oh, I dunno, like AGES AWAY from hitting the ground. I don't think I'm overreacting at all. I was scared.

Mark that down for an absolute first. Okay, not first, but it was the first time I've ever admitted it to _myself_.

"Overkill? I think not," he sneered.

And promptly let me go.

**

* * *

A/N: Sorry to leave a cliffy like that, but I'm all typed out. No, really, I am. Heck, that was like, 10 pages in tiny font! Well, this is probably the length of chappies that you guys are going to get from now on. Hope this wasn't too much of a let-down. I didn't like it that much, but whatever. It's a Monday, so I'm pretty annoyed with school and all that jazz. Anyhoo, if you want me to keep writing, REVIEW! I need some inspiration, and nice reviews give me that :)**

**Response to reviews:**

_Mrs Nikki Slater_: It can't be a story without Jesse! I'm a total Jesse softie at heart. Thanks for reviewing!

_bbblfl_: Thanks! I read your new fic and it's awesome so far… I CANT BELIEVE HE SPIKED HER DRINK! Lol, just needed to get that off my chest.

_giggles_: Hmmm… I haven't really decided the pairings so far. It's P/S for the next couple of chapters, so don't worry about that. I'm not sure, I've got the plot ruled out, but anything else is really spur of the moment. Thanks for reviewing!

_Allura01_: OMG, I love Sequence, it's great so far! Hope you update soon. Anyhoo, hope this chapter wasn't too bad or anything, I'm trying to please people! Thanks!

_DemonicBallerina_: I actually find it pretty difficult to make Suze sorta mean to everyone (including Jesse), and I haven't written a story where she's so negative, but I'm trying. I'm glad you like it, I wasn't sure if people would! Thankyou!

_Channie_: Oooh, you think it's funny? Thanks a bunch, I hope this chappy isn't too bad.

**(in light of the bombings) **

**Stay safe, be happy, have fun!**

**Luv starrynightdreamer**

**Aka cee cee**


	3. Halfway Between a Doctor and Deep Shit

**Just thought I'd respond to all the reviews I received for my last chapter – 11! OMG, I feel so special, and sooo happy! This is my thanks to you! Lol, hope this next chapter isn't too bad. **

**Disclaimer/Author Note: I don't own any characters or towns (like Carmel) you recognise here. Meg, and the United States do. Aye. I own any other character you don't recognise and the plot. The rating is T, even though it's stretched a little sometimes. But, like spandex, I don't think it'll break.**

**Response to Reviews:**

First of all, thankyou to everyone who reviewed me, it means sooo much and makes my writing time so much better… because, well, it gives me inspiration, which is greatly needed. And I'm positively lacking that (aka Once Again, I haven't even BEGUN to write the 7th chappy, on account of my motivation for that story being at an all-time low… and a severe case of writers block, but you get that), but because I feel all nice and happy, I'll start working especially hard on this story and try to update at least once a week or so.

_**XoMirollie246**: Thanks so much for reviewing… I have no idea how I came up with the whole 'butt' thing! I swear I was just on a roll and I typed it in. And then was like "OMG, why did I write that? Oh well," and kept going._

_**Melissa Trent**: I hope it's going to be J/S too! Oh, who am I kidding? I'm the author, I alone have the power… lol, thankyou!_

_**bbblfl**: Oooh, thanks b, I'm so glad someone finally realised what I was trying to do! Yeah! I didn't want Jesse to seem like a total pushover (which, lets face it, if any guy acts like Jesse really did in the 21st century, he'd either be gay or eaten alive). There's a little Virtual Kick for ya! ;) But in a nice, thanks for reviewing, I love you sooo much (non gay way) type VK. And thanks for the email too – I couldn't believe you like alias too! Yay! And I was happy to give another writer a helping hand lol._

_**Mrs. Nikki Slater**: Thanks for reviewing, I love you so much (in a total non-leso way, I'm about as straight as a line drawn with a ruler)! You're always one of the first to review and that means a lot. Oh Paul may die… I'm joking, I'm joking. No killing, I swear. I may make you want to kill him in future chapters, but I'm not killing him off. I'm too nice I guess. _

_**luv it**: Here it is! Hope you like it… and review it (nudge nudge)_

_**La fonda**: Jesse saving her was considered. I won't tell you if I went through with it or not (coz you'll have to read this chappy and find out). I was even contemplating her being thrown over a cliff… but then I decided against it, for obvious reasons – we can't have her too badly injured in the second chapter can we? I haven't thought that far ahead as to how Jesse influences Suze – but I have a few ideas, never fear. Thanks for reviewing!_

_**DemonicBallerina**: Wheeee! Thanks for the great review, it's awesome how people were so understanding of why I did it. I was expecting someone to go "Oh, that is SO OOC, I can't believe you did that, I hate you" Erm, well, maybe not that bad, but something like that. But it didn't happen! I hope you like this chapter; it was the best I could summon up at the moment, what with school, and taekwondo and all of my other commitments lol. BTW: Update _New_! Please? I'm begging you here._

_**channie**: Hmmm… I didn't really like Paul all that much in the books, and the same goes for fan fiction, but I still like to include him for reasons beyond my brain. I guess it's because some people out there do like Paul with an all-consuming passion. :shrugs: oh well. Hope you like this chappy!_

_**giggles**: Yes, I am crazy, and have been since I was born :). I know you were joking about that whole Suze thing, she isn't like that in this story. In my other one, yeah, maybe, but not this one. I struggle a lot trying to remember she has the whole I-hate-the-world, the-world-hates-me take on things, mostly because I'm literally the polar opposite of this, but I get the job done. Thanks for reviewing!_

_**Allura01**: Thanks sooo much! I love your reviews! Lol, Sequence is really cool. Nehoo, I'm glad you liked my little Jesse-change-of-character. I was soo iffy on it, and wasn't sure, but it looks like I made a good decision (for like, once in my life). Hope this chapter wasn't too disappointing! _

_**DealNonDraco**: Really? Kick-ass? Noice, I feel proud of myself now! Lol, thanks soo much for reviewing me, here's the next chappy, hope you like it. _

Chapter 3 – Halfway Between a Doctor and Deep Shit

Lifting my face out of a pile of leaves, I looked around, half-conscious. The only word I could use to perfectly sum up the situation was "Crap,"

I could barely think. My mind was numb, and everything was jarred. I was only semi-aware of everything going on around me, which is how I realised something was touching me. More so, _someone_. I paid almost no attention to that person though, and instead looked at the top of the tree looming above me in awe. Man, I had fallen from that high! Surely I'd resemble something of strawberry jam right about now?

Don't like strawberry jam? Tough.

The mystery was solved when I instantaneously realised two things – one was that there was a massive thick branch overhead, about halfway up. I had probably lost consciousness the minute I made contact with it. The second thing being the fact I could barely even start to move, the bruising along my lower stomach being so severe. That branch, I realised, was the only reason I was still alive. Go nature.

If I ever walk again, I may join a campaign like Greenpeace to stop folks cutting trees down. People don't give these large funky beauties enough credit.

Trista and her guy had gone, probably because they obviously didn't feel like sticking around for the gory be-all and end-all of Suze Simon, former mediator and now, well, _nauseous_.

It took a few more seconds for me to realise that I had come around because someone had found me. And they wouldn't quit _touching me_. I swear, if that guy doesn't stop calling me _querida_ and shaking me, I'm gonna-

Hold the phone – _Querida_? Oh no…

"Please answer me Susannah, earth to Susannah…"

I looked over to my left and saw Jesse sitting there prodding me gently like I was a bomb about to detonate. And with good reason, I guess. I was about to. Explode, I mean, if he didn't QUIT TOUCHING ME!

"Hands off the merchandise man," I muttered, and with one swift movement I was quite proud of, I pinned his arms under my own. Oh yes, she's still got it.

"You're okay!" he said, "You seemed a bit out of it,"

I shut my eyes and groaned, rubbing my forehead with my hands. My body felt so creaky, like I was a wooden chair on the verge of breaking. "Yep, formally out of my mind, that's me," I replied sarcastically. I felt like I'd been hit with a bus… several times.

Sitting up I gasped, clutching my stomach and saying words I'm glad my mother weren't around to hear me utter.

"Are you alright?" _Nah, you think?_

"Gonna be sore in the morning," Gritting my teeth, I slowly started moving again. He chuckled and offered his hand. When I didn't take it, he tried to hoist me up by grabbing me under my shoulders.

"Hey," I shrugged my arms free of his grip, "no touchie. Neine touchie," It's so funny how I can use German in a crisis like this. Maybe the branch jogged my brain about. Yeah, that's it.

Jesse jumped back and held his hands up in an I-surrender sort of way. "Sorry, I just wanted to help,"

I shook my head. Who did this guy think he was? A hotter, Spanish version of Superman? "I don't need anyone's help," I snapped.

He clicked his tongue unbelievably. "Uh-huh. Falling from trees must be a hobby. You're a natural thrill seeker. I should have known,"

Jesse was teasing me. Again. God, is this where he gets his kicks? Why can't he tease his girlfriend or something? I mean, it's not like I exactly like it, and it's so infuriating that I can barely seem to summon up a sure enough rage against him. Did I mention he was hot? I was about to react when I noticed he was grinning and surveying me closely. Toying with me, no doubt, seeing how long it took before I snapped. My therapist had always said that my rage switch was oversensitive, but I beg to differ. It's not insensitive.

"Haha," was my totally original comeback. Cool, calm and sarcastic, that's me.

"Soo," he started, "you gonna explain why," ignoring my _neine touchie_ warning, he raked a leaf out of my hair, "I found you unconscious in a pile of dead leaves?"

I shrugged. "You can tell me what ke-reeda means first,"

He smiled a little and shook his head. "Ask no questions, tell no lies, right?"

I nodded. He was fast. "Exactly,"

"Fine. Don't ask me what I'm saying, and I'll ignore your battling with your inner ghosts,"

Jesse's comment stopped me dead. Did he… how could he? How could he know? But it turned out to be a totally innocent thing, a metaphor, or figure of speech. I congratulated myself on not jumping to conclusions quickly. Ha. He obviously had no idea of the context of what he just said, and if he did he was doing a very good job of hiding it. "We really need to get you checked out,"

Shaking my head, I started to walk away. "Thanks, but no thanks. Hospitals make me sick,"

He motioned for me to sit on a bench nearby, and I followed obediently, wondering what he was doing. Probably giving me a speech or something. My confusion intensified when he crouched in front of me. Peering into my eyes, he asked me to look up, down and to both sides. Ookay, sorta freaky shit going on here. "Uh," I grumbled, "I think these things are eyes. You know, you see with them,"

Jesse laughed again. "You're not concussed _querida_, so no hospital trips for you. Be thankful for that. Now…" he looked at my stomach. "I see the main bruise from what I presume was the branch you landed on, seeing as it looks practically similar in shape, but there are other inconsistent ones higher up." He looked seriously up into my eyes. I dropped my gaze and avoided them. I did not want to get caught up. Again. "You haven't been in a fight have you?"

I stopped the urge to laugh. What was he, a psychic or something? "No," I lied quite bluntly, and – much to my chagrin – obviously.

Biting his lip and sighing a little, he threw me a cautious look and ran his fingers along the cut on my cheek and lips. Damn cuts, I cursed myself as I shuddered under his touch, which was sending shivers down my spine, through my body, and right down to my toes. Like they were warming my whole body. Those feelings… they were good. They felt too good. So they had to stop.

Yanking my face away from his fingers, I stood up. "Well, thanks for the CAT scan, Dr Jesse, but I have to get home," _and get away from you_, I silently added.

Standing up after me, he took my wrist. Not painfully or forcefully, but firm at the same time. "Let me walk you home,"

Walk me home? That's funny. I laughed. "Haha, that's hilarious,"

Jesse's face knotted up into an expression of… adorable confusion. Oh my god… just forget I said that. "Hilarious? I can't see anything funny about me making sure you arrive home safely,"

"What do you want?" I asked bluntly. I mean, hello? There has to be a motive behind this random act of thoughtfulness. I mean Paul, _my boyfriend_, only did it because it was his chance to kiss me. And try other things…

So you can't blame me for thinking that he wanted something.

But his confusion only intensified. "I do not want anything Susannah, I'm just making sure you get home okay. Your brother will be in the of deepest trouble if anything happened to you," he smiled a little, "considering you're supposed to be up in your room reading a magazine right about now,"

Smiling in spite of myself, I found myself thanking him. THANKING HIM! Like, is today seriously SCREWY or what? "You actually covered for me? Wow, thanks," I stared at him amazed. Here I was thinking he was this totally responsible and saintly guy, even though he didn't look it. Obviously there was more to him than that. Maybe he was just a nice guy…

Nah, rinse and repeat. God doesn't make them anymore.

Thinking that this was my given permission – and I guess in some weird way it _was_ – to walk me home, he turned me around by the shoulders and began walking towards Pine Crest again.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, my mind had started overfilling with questions. "So, tell me Jesse, what exactly are you in college for? Lawyer? Police Officer? Natural do-gooder?"

His lips curved up a little. "Actually I'm partaking in a medical course,"

A doctor. Go figure. This guy needs to fill in an application for the official leagues of sainthood already.

"So that's how you knew I wasn't concussed," I stated more than asked. Obviously this opened up the doorway for him to ask me something.

I'm serious. It's like we had just started up a game of 20 questions. Someone shoot me already!

"And what are you interested in?"

I shrugged.

"I mean, surely you must have some idea of what you want to do. What you'd like to become?"

"Honestly? I just want to pass the 11th grade," I muttered lamely.

Actually, no, put down the gun. I'll do it myself.

But he pressed on. "What are your areas of interest?"

And I told him. Don't ask me why, it's not like it'll ever happen. And it was something I'd never even told Paul, I guess, because we'd never had the conversation. That, and he'd probably laugh. I'm finding it embarrassing even admitting it to myself and all, but helping the ghosts – that is the one thing I feel proud about. It may seem like I really hate it, but its not that bad. Hopefully it makes up for everything else. And I swear if you ever repeat that to anyone there'll be some definite shit-kicking. "I'm interested in the idea of a social worker, or phycology, I guess, because… well, believe it or not, I tend to help people quite a lot,"

Well, Jesse sure had a laugh at that. Yes, we're just one for toilet humour today aren't we? "Ah, I presume breaking their noses does give them answers to _all_ their problems,"

"Okay, now you're just teasing me again," I reminded him, smiling a little as well. I think this was because he didn't find the idea I sort of had an interest funny, just mainly what it was. And I guess it was a little ironic too. Walking in silence a little more, I finally asked Jesse, "How did you find me anyway? Where I was isn't exactly a hop skip and jump from my house,"

"Ah, that _querida_, is another 'ask no questions, tell no lies' situation,"

I playfully punched him on the shoulders. "Screw you,"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "If you must know, I live out this way and I was walking home,"

Suddenly I glared at him. I mean, I know he was trying to be nice and all, but I don't appreciate being worried about and fussed over. I really don't. "Then why are walking back? I thought you needed to go back as well,"

Taken aback by my sudden anger, he smiled sheepishly. "Is it too much to ask to make sure you don't trip or something and knock yourself out again?"

Meh. Shows just how much faith he has in me and MY highly credited walking abilities.

Stop laughing now.

"No, but it's just… you don't have to. So why are you?"

Shrugging, he asked, "Does my being around annoy you that much?"

Truthfully? No. And that's why it does. Annoy me, I mean. "It's just, why do you keep popping up into my life all of a sudden?" I answered instead, "I mean, we only met just last night,"

He shrugged again. "It's a small world I guess,"

Too small.

* * *

"So what did Ernestine say?" Roxy asked, as she lit a cigarette. We were skipping religion, as was our custom. Actually, they all were – Jules, Kelly, Roxy and Debbie. I had just detoured here, instead of going to the office like I was supposed to. I don't think calling your teacher an (A/N: strong language, aye, uh hmm) unfucked prude really does it for the catholic system, ya know?

Instead, I answered, "The usual 'Miss Simon, how dare you use that language, go to the office now' stunt she's pulled before," I twirled the cigarette I hadn't lit yet in my fingers like a baton. "Surely she's realised by now I never go,"

Kelly barked out a laugh when she heard this. "That's a little, er, below the belt Simon, even for you,"

"Hasn't stopped her before," Jules added, as she tossed me her lighter. True, I had given up smoking momentarily, but it was the California air getting to me again. Turns out that just because this is a catholic school doesn't mean everyone abides by their strict rules. Thank god, or I would have been so outta here.

She aimed a plume of smoke near the open window and allowed the breeze to carry it away. "Religion is so bogus man,"

Jules and her family were one of the most unreligious around. It had beat me how she got into here – until I heard that her parents had paid a pretty hefty donation to the school, because they didn't want their 'little baby' to go the public school, and Robert Louis Stevenson was wait-listing for at least 8 months. Though unreligious, they aren't short on the moola.

Debbie shook her head, the only one who wasn't smoking. She didn't want smokers breath, she had said, when kissing my stepbrother Dopey.

Excuse me while I barf.

Roxy snorted a little, but didn't say anything. I always knew that she'd held a secret torch for Dopey too, although god knows why. Am I the only female that doesn't get that charm my eldest two stepbrothers give off?

Although, I reminded myself, no one else here has seen them eat. It's a truly horrifying experience.

"Religion isn't too bad, if you're into the stuff," Debbie – who is a believer – said defensively.

Jules rolled her eyes. "Whatev. Wanna ditch the rest of the day?"

I nodded, hopping off the window seat. "I can't get outta here fast enough,"

Finishing my cig I stomped on it, before tossing the remains outside. Kelly and Jules both threw them into the toilets, laughing as they heard the sizzle of the hot ash hitting cold water. Each is to their own I guess.

"WAKE UP CALL!" Kelly screeched humorously into Debbie's ear when she didn't make a move to get up. She had seemed so out of it today, you'd think it was _her_ that had fallen out of a tree not two days ago, instead of me. I was just so relieved that nothing else – eventful, at least – had happened after that.

Debbie jumped up suddenly in fright, letting out a piercing scream that reverberated off my eardrums. Have I mentioned her voice is really high pitched? I swear, instead of oxygen, she breathes in HELIUM.

I hopped into Kelly's car that she uses to drive Debbie and herself to school everyday (I have to bum rides off my stepbrothers). It's quite funny how I had taken the fact that the police officer never took my alcohol levels along without any major gratitude, and now I was getting into the same car again in which I had been speeding in a few days before. I mean, it all could have worked out differently that Friday night. And then where would I be?

Shit happens.

Kells though, seemed to have learned from it, if her eagerness to keep a hold of the wheel was any suggestion. That was fine by me. I mean, not only can't I do anything I want when my parentals are around; my mother had confiscated my license off me.

Thanks mum. Thanks a whole lot.

After a few minutes, she pulled up into the mall parking lot. I hate malls. And obviously this little fact slipped her perfectly moussed up mind, aye. And when I told her this, she just giggled. Yeah, giggled. Thank god she's a friend, or I would have slapped her – cerebral meltdown is not FUNNY! "Oh, Simon, you nearly got me – how could anyone hate malls?"

Oh, I have a few reasons. Claustrophobia being one.

So I was pulled into the mall. It didn't occur to me then, mostly because Kelly and Roxy get over-excited when the words SALE and HALF PRICE are mentioned, but Debbie wasn't joining in on the fun. She was so quiet; it was almost like I was in an alternate universe. Asking her while I was sitting in the food court sipping on a coke if she was okay seemed to satisfy my curiosity though. She had probably been given hell-and-a-half for being pulled into a police station, and now she was skipping school. I could practically see her gears rotating, processing the crap she was going to get given. You get that, but like I said, she needs to grow a backbone.

Little did I know it was something a heck a lot bigger than that.

While Roxy dragged me through a department store with as little regard for my mental health as anything, I finally found out where my beloved friends, Trista and her guy, had disappeared to. Because unless they had gone to another mediator (unlikely – I mean, would you, after meeting me and my fist? I think not) they were still pretty much here on this plane of existence. Bah, humbug.

So, after disentangling myself from her grasp, I walked casually over to the clothes racks and pretended to sort through the garments. "Howdy," I muttered under my breath.

"Not dead? You should be for what you did," Her boyfriend seemed disappointed. Well, that's my specialty isn't it?

I rolled my eyes, casually glancing their way. "Unhappy? Well, FYI, us mediators are pretty hard to kill. Falling from a 4 story high tree won't do much," I rapped my skull with a sly smile, "see? No bruise, concussion or anything else," except for my uncanny knack to spout off German at the most inappropriate of times. Ich swear, daß ich absolut geistlich gehe. Exactly.

"You were just lucky, tart," Trista snarled.

Tart? Speaking of which, I'm hungry. I like custard tarts better, but without the apple. Just ruins it ya know?

Putting my finger to my lips I shushed her all happily. "Shh, don't want to get too angry. This is public domain here. Someone may hear you,"

Her lip curled. "You mediator biatch, are one of the lowest, foulest, most frustrating people I have ever met,"

Why thank you! I wasn't used to being showered with so many colourful explanative words. Oh well, will receive applause later.

And this is coming from a girl who has just spent the last 4 minutes sorting through a rack of identical pink singlets, which all are the same size.

(A/N: Mmm, custard tart… whoops, my bad. Read on…)

Her flavour-of-the-week cut in, grabbing his girlfriends' arm all soothingly and kissing her on the forehead. "Listen, can you just do what she wants, so we can move on?"

I turned to him. "Okay. So, dude, before I sign up, I need your full terms and conditions,"

Blinking, he asked, "Excuse me?"

I sighed. I should get paid for this. "Your name, man. I need your name," _Because I'm running out of descriptive words for ya, that's why. _

"It's Greg,"

"Greg, right. Now, tell me something – I know Trina is stuck here coz she wants her diamond necklace delivered to her cousin and all. Why are you? Seriously, you can't be all hung up on the same thing… unless," I pretended to be interested, "wait, don't tell me! This is like one of those diamond necklaces in Titanic right? Weighs a ton, costs a lot… and she grows old and just throws it in the ocean before she dies?"

(A/N: I have just finished watching Australia's Funniest Home Videos, and they did a rip-off of Titanic… go figure)

I know I'm being annoying. What else should I do to buggers who won't move on? Be _polite_?

Trina's face began to grow red in rage, but Greg held her back. "I haven't moved on because she's still here. I don't want to be apart from her, ever," he gazed at her all romantically. Whatever. Must be nice.

Rage seemingly forgotten, she stared up at him all worshipful. "Greg had just proposed… we were going to get married on the beach, with a red carpet. I had the dress all picked out, but no shoes. Because, you know, it's pretty much impossible to walk on sand in stilettos. Especially if you don't want to ruin them-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. You were in love, unfortunate car accident ended both your lives and so you're going to spend the rest of your afterlife together. That's so romantic," _Not_, "I got it. I'll do it, fine, just stop the soppy please? This is too much for a Monday afternoon,"

She looked down on me, like she pitied me. What? I am nothing to pity. So what if I'll probably never find a guy who would do something like that for me, or care about me that much? I don't give. It's not like a need a guy to complete me. Sure, it'd be nice to know that someone in this world would do something like that, pretty much give up anything for me, but I've accepted the fact it'll never happen. That's the good thing about being young – you know what you'll have, and what you won't in life. And a guy I could love and trust forever won't be one of those things. Anyway, he was so stupid – he could have hung around for all eternity in limbo with her if they'd never found me, so I could get them to move on.

People in love. Sheesh.

But just to get rid of the grossly happy couple, I found myself slipping on my dark blue skinny jeans, converse high tops and black sweater – my general ghost busting or breaking-the-law outfit – and packing a small backpack which held a torch, screwdriver, pliers, lighter (don't ask) and band-aids. One too many brushes with glass windows have been etched in my mind, along with the scars on my wrists. I knew where Trina's house was, but not the cousin – she was going to tell me after I got it. And I also knew that Trina's family weren't going to give it up. I'd already tried, with an anonymous phone call like my usual prerogative, but they hadn't budged. So I had to do some stealing.

On a Monday. I swear.

Not bothering myself to take the car (the bike had been long destroyed by a particularly angry spirit) I ran down Pine Crest on foot. Ah, nothing is more refreshing than a 1am jog. Try it sometime.

After about 15 minutes, I finally reached the chick's apartment. It was on the ground floor, thank god – there was no way I was scaling up a few stories, what with my near-brush with being a pancake a few days before… I'm not Spiderman – and I crept around to the only side window I could see. Trina had said that it should be fairly easy to get in, because it was one of the only ones that didn't have a security screen installed. Instead, it had a fly screen over a glass window. And it was supposed to keep people out.

Obviously, civilians are very honest and trusting in Carmel.

Cupping my hands to cut out the moonlight, I peered inside to make sure the room was deserted. It looked like it was the study, because of the telltale computer. Kneeling down behind one of the shrubs, I opened up my backpack and took out my pliers and lighter. Using the pliers, I snapped the fly screen wires to create a large hole. Then, striking the lighter, I placed it underneath the broken wires and watched them melt from the heat; curling and twisting like a curtain at Broadway. This was so the wires wouldn't snag me on my way in, and catch some of my hair or whatever.

Again, a mistake I have made in the past. Once I was satisfied, I pushed the window in. I quickly glanced around, threw my backpack in first, and followed in. I didn't bother closing the window, mostly because I wanted a quick way out if worse came to worse. Slowly, I turned the handle of the door with my sweater covering my fist – heck, I know Carmel doesn't have a CSI type thing, but you can never be too careful. I mean, those shows teach you quite a bit.

Not that I think this is exactly what the creators wanted, to support breaker-and-enterers such as myself. But it's for a good cause.

My peace of mind.

Creeping down the hall very quietly – I was in my sneakers after all – I recognised Trina's room instantly. I guess I just knew.

Oh, don't get all ahead of yourself. I'm not some psychic, who can see things in my mind. I just talk to ghosts. No, I recognised it, because peering past the open door, there was a canopy in the middle of the room.

With pink frills.

(A/N: I have no idea why I am being so mean to Trina in this story, but I guess I just couldn't help it … mwahaha)

Hey, you do the math guys.

Her parents, probably too sick with grief, hadn't cleaned out her room yet. It looked fairly untouched. It was a fairly simple room, you know, shoving the obvious girliness and pinkness aside. (Heck, it looked pretty much just like my room, except my walls have blue forget-me-nots, instead of pink rose petals) I could plainly see her jewellery box, which was sitting on her dresser. Obviously, it'd be in there right?

Yes. No, it wasn't a big blue one like Rose Dewhatsername's. As if. It was just a heart locket on a thick gold chain. It seemed pretty simple, but I know for a fact the simplest things can have major sentimental value. And even though this seemed a little extreme, having to steal it just so they'd quit trying to kill me, it still got rid of them. And that's what counts. I plucked a tissue from her bedside table and wrapped the necklace up in it, before slipping it back into my backpack.

Now, I know for a start that getting out is always the hardest part. ALWAYS. Something always seems to go wrong, whether you knock something over, you forget to cover your hand when opening up the door, you cut yourself on the glass – it's like the unwritten rule to thieving.

And tonight seemed like no exception. Oh, sure don't get too worried; I wasn't busted in her room. I was sneaking back out, down the hall and past a giant redwood bookcase when the light flickered to life. Turning around, I saw a spindly woman in her late forties staring at me with her mouth open in horror. I guess it's not exactly what you want to see is it? A chick practically dressed all in black in the middle of your hallway at 1:30 in the morning. And then, very like her daughter, she began shrieking. I covered my ears with my hands and groaned. Like mother, like daughter, even with the vocal chords. Her husband – Trina's father – strode out with… a baseball bat.

Oh boy.

"You," he thundered, "freeze!"

It was so _NYPD Blue_. Without the guns.

Oh, shit. Time seemed to go in slow motion. Afterwards, it had seemed like an hour that this had taken place, but in reality it had only been a few seconds. But a lot can happen in a few seconds, I've found.

My fist curled up in preparation for a fight, while I scanned the hall in the corner of my eyes. The study was down at the end of the corridor, but by the time I had gotten there and jumped through the window, I'd probably be clubbed to death. Nice.

So I settled for, "Um."

Go Suze, you're totally great on the confrontation stakes aren't you?

During this, the horsy mother had gotten her hands on a phone, and started plugging in 3 digits. I'll give you two guesses as to what they were. Obviously between the phone, and the baseball bat, no body but me saw the two giant vases that were standing proudly on top of the redwood bookcase suddenly levitate above their heads, waver for a moment, and come crashing down.

Their bodies slumped onto the floor like a puppet that had had its strings cut. Trista appeared behind them, followed by Greg. I gaped at her.

"You… you knocked out your own parents!" I have no idea why this shocked me so much. Me, most likely to give my mother an aneurism before Christmas, was shocked that a ghost had just knocked hers unconscious and saved me from certain trouble.

Quickly I scampered over to the phone, and hung up. I don't think she'd finished dialling in the numbers. I hope.

"I had to," was all she settled for in saying, "you can't give my cousin the necklace if your in juvie can you?"

My shock deflated. If a ghost is only interested in their own problems, then you can forget about morals. They'll do anything to get what they want.

"What are you standing there for?" Greg asked, pointing down the hall. "Go!"

I didn't need to be told twice.

**

* * *

A/N: Ahhh, the sweet remedy of a finished chapter.**

**Uh…huh.**

**Anyhoo, please REVIEW if you want me to CONTINUE! I like reviews, (especially long ones) they seriously brighten up my day. Things will start happening very soon, because in the grand scheme of things its really only been 3 days, but just be on the eagle-eye for clues to the plot. I tend to be very… subtle.**

**Yeah, subtle as a sledgehammer. Go me, and the sexy ninja penguins.**

**It's okay. I'm fine. **

**Oooh, yes, and vote for a phrase that can be used in a future chapter title! Don't ask why, please just do it… because it may change the course of the story (oooh, that's so Twilight Zone)**

**Lifestyles Of The Rich And Bitchy**

**In Over Your Head**

**The Conspiracy Of An Idiotic Teenager**

**I'll try to get the next chappy up as soon as possible!  
Luv sarah xoxo**

**ps: that whole looking into the eyes thing to check if you have a concussion - i know this because i had one once at school (don't ask, seriously, don't) and that's what they did. And concussions kill, so kids, don't try this at home**


	4. She's A Rebel

Chapter 4 – She's A Rebel

Turns out the Carmel-By-The-Sea police force got the message. Unfortunately. I think this is probably because they don't get that many calls on 911 and when they finally do – WHAM! Lets get ready to rumble.

I wasn't sticking around though, to get arrested. I hoisted my backpack loosely over my shoulders and ran for it down the road. In the distance I could hear sirens.

And I knew that if I was still hanging around once those sirens hit, I was pretty much a goner. Looking wildly around, I tried looking for an alleyway between houses, shops and apartment lots. I finally spotted one next to Dave's Diner, which was heavily laced with shadows. Perfect. Trundling over a few fallen pieces of wood from where the neighbours had tried fixing up their fence, I sank deeper into the darkness as I walked slowly along the alleyway, trying not to trip over and put a hole in one of my favourite pairs of jeans.

You'd think, because it's California, that it never rains. It never does on The OC… except for that one memorable time, but it's just as rare as pigs growing wings and flying away. In Carmel, it does not rain. Period. So why were these massive fat drops pelting me?

Because, like all the ironies in this god-forsaken place, the only time it does is when I'm going to be stuck in the middle of it. I groaned miserably, and started walking even faster towards home, using as many short cuts as possible without detouring onto the main road.

My life is just a big box of chocolates that are four months past their use-by date.

* * *

Detention.

The punishment you receive when you skip school. Charming isn't it? It really is a wonderful way to spend a Tuesday afternoon, sitting next to a footballer who's IQ is less than Max, the Ackerman's dog. Mark, was his name, and he was creating a football made of wadded up paper, stuck together with copious amounts of glue and sticky tape. It seriously wasn't fair – I couldn't even carry a conversation with him when Sister Maree had her back turned, unless I knew anything about UCLA or Playboy magazines. Since I was _S_ – Simon – I had to sit in the back, whilst Kelly, Debbie, Roxy and Jules all sat towards the front. So instead I painted my nails with whiteout and listened to Jason Strathfield who was sitting behind me sneeze continuously, while I was waiting for the hour to be up. I'll blame it on his allergies, not the whiteout, that was making his eyes water uncontrollably. Or maybe he was just crying, because of the fact he was in detention in the first place. Who knew?

I mean, what is the use of being a mediator in this world? You don't get any employee benefits, or hourly compensation. I think when I finally climbed back into my room, sopping wet at around 2am last night is example enough of this. And I don't even get benefit of the doubt.

I tried to get out of the detention. I sure did. But Father Dom saw right through me and my lie about my skipping school so I could mediate a particularly horrendous soul.

Don't ask me what gave it away, but he can always seem to tell when I lie. That, and the fact I barely ever give up anything just to help a ghost. Whatever. I had posted the necklace that morning so hopefully Trista and Greg were gone onto their next phase of consciousness. Thank god the rain had cleared up before sunrise, because I was not keen on walking home in the rain, again. Because that's how I was getting home – walking. Woot, what an adventure.

At least I had worn my pink flip-flops, teamed with army camouflage pants and a black singlet top. You know, cute, stylish… and on foot. There is something _so_ wrong about that picture.

And where's Paul through all of this? Well, apparently giving his girlfriend a ride home in his silver BMW was not on the top of his list of priorities. I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't on that list _at all_. I mean, where are his brains? Who wouldn't want a total babe like me in their car?

Um, I didn't just say that right?

Well, apparently that kind of thing Paul doesn't care about. Men. They only want you for two things – a piece of ass, and someone to cook meals for them. Well, haha Mr Slater – I can't cook at ALL! Because last time I checked, charcoal wasn't a style of biscuit. Or a style of anything, except bin-food.

So instead, I'm strutting down the street from school by myself, since I'd missed Dopey's ride home. And Kelly and co? They were heading back to the mall. As if. And I was contaminating my mind with the fresh Californian air, as I walked past the numerous trees and streets that turned off the main one. Want to know why I'm so worried about the "air"? Because everyone who breathes it for long periods of time seem to become bimbos. Not naming anyone in particular, but isn't my boyfriend a great example of Exhibit A? You saw him on Saturday.

And don't get me started on anyone else. I was thinking up my A – Z's of why I hate California so much when a car screeched up behind me, the brakes squeaking. My heart leapt – yes! Paul decided I was definite car-material, finally.

Ixnaying that thought the minute I turned around, I felt my heart start thumping, slamming into my ribs. The person got out of the car. Paul should have been the perfect person. Kelly, or Debbie, or anyone of my friends would have been a great second. Heck, even Sleepy, Brad or Jesse would have been an even better last resort. But who it actually was, I didn't like the look of. I have a pretty good intuition, for a 17 year-old mediator. I really do. And by the looks of this guy – who was a replica of a typical serial killer – he was very dangerous. I mean, seriously – think mid-thirties, he had dark hair, dark eyes (and not like Jesse, who was actually considered hot) and a crooked, sly and sick grin adorning his face. My sirens went off. I should get outta there. Pronto.

"Hey, a pretty girl like you shouldn't be walking home alone so late," he said, too smoothly to remotely trust. His car was a dark blue, and his windows heavily tinted. Nice.

Nice car, I mean. Not the guy. I wasn't even entertaining _that_ idea.

And late? He thought it was late? Heck, it was only 4:30! Jeez, if he wants to try late on for size, he should have been with me earlier this morning.

Not that I would have wanted him to be near me, even if I was holding a 6 foot sword between us. He was major creep material. I should have booked it outta there straight away.

So why wasn't I moving? You might say I was scared… okay, I was, a little, but it was only when I saw the coil of rope he was trying to hide that was balled up in his fist did I really begin to freak out. My limbs locked up, and my mind went into auto drive. I was mentally checking off everything I had learnt in from my _sensei_ about the most sensitive parts of a guy. And I was also taking some tips from Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality. Ya know, when in doubt, SING. So this was all going through my mind in the space of 2 seconds, as well as wondering if he was completely with it. I mean, what kind of idiot just attacks someone on the street, in broad daylight?

My kind of idiot.

Lets get something straight here. I really, really don't like my comfort zone being invaded by psychopaths and then some. I've come across a fair few in my line of work, and they all are the same – twisted, in every single way. You can barely hold any remorse for them, because their morals are so foreign and shit. Yah, I'm not exactly one for the continuation of morals, but I still got em, whether I remember them or not is a different sector right there. Anyway, the whole damsel in distress thing doesn't do it for my complexion.

So, I decided to skip the parts where I realise I'm being attacked, try to run for it, and then scream and plead for help when I can't. I also skipped punching him in the jawbone, since it's such a clichéd way to start a fight. And hey, I do wanna keep you guys interested as well. So, with a swift kick, I just went straight for the source…

…of a man's most prized part of anatomy, imitating Nina Williams from Tekken with surprising ease. Yah, sure, not the most impressing way to disarm a guy, but who says I'm above playing dirty?

But I seem to make daily work I this, don't you think? First Greg, now Mr Psycho-Stalker.

And I seem to make them even more pissed off than they were originally. He howled in pain, clutching his… fruit salad. _(A/N: Mashed banana mashed banana…) _But this was the typical response I usually receive whenever my _manoeuvre_ is pulled, so I wasn't worried. Ducking down, I kicked his feet out from underneath him with an army-pant clad leg.

Sure, not my best fighting clothes, but I do with what I have. And I seemed to be making quick work of him, anyway.

At least, that was until I heard the car-door slam, and another, slightly more menacing male stepped into the arena. Oh, I should be flattered. Two men want a piece of little old me?

Too bad little old me packs quite a right hook. And the guys weren't even cute. Nothing I haven't handled before.

Okay, I lie. Nothing I _can't_ handle.

Suddenly, I felt a booted foot slam into my chest painfully, and I flew back into the wooden gate of the person's house we were in front of, before collapsing onto the ground like a ballerina in the middle of an interpretive dance or something. I tried to take a breath, but my ribs felt like they were shaking under the pressure, about to crack like glass. My assaulter had obviously taken the blow to his family jewels a little more personally than I thought. Guys and their super-fragile egos.

Bracing my arms against the weight, I slowly got up as they both closed in on me. Guy # 1 outstretched the rope he had in his hands and Guy # 2 swung the car keys around his finger, and said quite simply, "Come with us and we won't hurt you,"

Yeah. And I'm Angelina Jolie.

I wish.

I smiled sweetly, and Guy # 1 stopped moving so threateningly. "Um, okay as long as you promise," I said, trying to sound naïve. I should get an Oscar or something.

Guy # 1 nodded, and let the rope fall to his side. Big mistake. This guy obviously wasn't one known for tact. I mean, who would actually believe that they wouldn't try to hurt you? Not any chick I know. They'd only so clearly made it obvious they were going to attempt to strangle _moi_. But who cares? Maybe this wouldn't be too hard after all. I slowly walked up to guy # 1, making sure I carefully planned out my retrieval of that rope. I would only have one chance. Otherwise I'd have to resort to doing the whole Damsel type thing.

And wouldn't that be a real quick reputation destroyer?

He began to turn around, ready to walk back to the car. Opportunity knocks, as they would say. Grabbing the end with my left fist, I used my other to twist his hand around, forcing him to let go. Before either of them could blink, I had the rope around the guys' neck. Booya.

"This 'pretty girl' can do whatever the hell she bloody wants," I hissed angrily in his ear, as I pulled harder on the rope, threatening to cut off his oxygen supply, "leave you fuckhead, or I swear I'll kick the utter shit out of you," and to make my point, I tugged on the rope a little harder. Kneeing him in the spine, he shouted in both pain and anger as I placed a perfect roundhouse in the same place, kicking him into the fence I'd rammed into minutes before.

What about the other guy? Ho hum, yeah, I had sorta forgotten about him. My bad. You see? That's what's so unfair about 2 on 1. Especially if it's two adult males against a petite 17 year old. Yeah. I looked around trying to see where he had gone, but I knew he wasn't completely AWOL. Even he wasn't that stupid to just run away – he was probably hiding behind a car or something, prepared to stab me or whatever. That thought just filled me with the warm and fuzzies, you know?

I still didn't understand why no one had noticed this scene straight out of Charlies Angels. Seriously, where were the cops? I quit wondering as soon as I felt a huge bicep crush into my jugular. Well, hey # 2, you have me in a headlock. Good for you – how much more cowardly can you get?

"You… are coming with me missy," he grunted. I flailed my arms and legs, trying to connect them with flesh, but it was a no go. Um hello? Neighbourhood watch? Homicide taking place in YOUR backyard!

My head began to swim, and it felt like all of the blood was rushing to my head, making it swell. My breathing turned raspy, as he tried dragging me towards the dark blue car. Jesus Christ, can't they just give up already? He had opened up the door and was about to throw me in when a fist slammed into his face. I fell face first into the pavement and rolled downhill into the car tires. My vision swam when my forehead connected with the metal plates of the tire.

Ugh. K.O – this chick is out.

I felt a strong arm pick me up, holding me around my stomach, trying to set me upright. And pretty much pressing on my lovely collection of bruises too. "Yo, Casanova, set me down!" I shouted, kicking my legs like a little two year old having a tantrum.

"Bloody Hell Suze," a familiar voice gruffed.

I stopped moving and looked up. "Sl-_Jake_?" I asked incredulously, "what the hell?" I tried squirming out of his grip, but he wouldn't let me go. Instead he tried dragging me down the street. "Jake! JAKE!" I punched him in the face and he stopped, putting me down. Pulling my hair out of my face I squinted up at him. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, looking half-stoned as per usual and cradling his jaw. "I was walking with summa me mates, and I saw you going all Jackie Chan on these guys,"

I turned around to see a few of his college friends from NoCal subduing guy 1 and guy 2. None of them I recognised, until I saw Jesse. Him, I knew. Great. Now he won't take my threats to beat him up seriously. Not that he probably did, but still.

And now I'll have to be escorted everywhere… driven everywhere… okay, that thought wasn't so bad. "Are you okay?" Sleepy asked, looking at me up and down.

"Hunkey freakin dory," I snapped, embarrassed. God, my step-brother had to help me… and so did his college friends, "I'm pretty sure I won't even bruise. Anyhow, why didn't you leave me? I could have so kicked his ass, if he hadn't of put me in a head-lock,"

"Suze, chill," he chided, talking slowly, like that dude from Napoleon Dynamite whenever he said 'Gosh!'

"No, I won't chill! I mean, I so could have taken him, really, you didn't have to help me,"

Sleepy grabbed my shoulders and pulled me even further away from the scene of bodies, punching and generally trying to kill each other. I could hear nose bones breaking from where I was standing, and shouts of pain. It sounded fun. "We need to get you home,"

I shook my head. I would have to explain why I was so late. It was different when I wasn't grounded, they didn't care, but now it does. And then they'd ask what I got detention for. And then they'd find out I blew off the last 4 periods. Jeez, I was in enough trouble. I wasn't about to ask for more.

A squeal of car tires brought my attention back the scene, and I saw a police car pull up. The two cops got out with their guns, and broke the brawl up. It was so not fair… I should still be there, punching the living daylights out of the numbskulls. I watched as the two psychos got handcuffed and led away, while Sleepy's friends got off without even a warning, just a slight curt nod from one of the officers. I guess that's what you get for citizens arrest around here. The officers had wanted to talk to me, but I refused. I wasn't too fond of police, and you get that when you spend more downtime with them in a police station that you do with your friends.

Jesse came running over, his hand covering a cut just above his eyebrow. "Susannah," he asked when he reached us, "are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I was just fine. I was handling the situation okay. You guys didn't need to jump in and get all beaten up,"

One of the other guys laughed loudly, guffawing like an idiot when he heard this, "Dude!" he boomed, "My life is like, so totally complete! We helped catch two of California's most wanted,"

Oooh! I took on two of California's MW? Give me a clap people, for all those who didn't think I could do it. And Jesse didn't seem to think so, at that moment. He shook his head. "You don't need to act all tough Susannah. It's okay to be scared,"

I snorted and didn't reply. Scared. Yeah, right. I was _so_ not scared. Just… surprised. It's not everyday a girl gets ganged up on in Carmel. New York, yeah, but California? Please.

But I had definitely not been scared. No way.

"Whatever. Thanks anyway," I muttered, and tried to stalk away. Sure, it had meant a little that Sleepy and his friends had wanted to help me, but I didn't need his help. I didn't need anyone's help. They seemed to think so, but. They insisted on escorting me home, like Prince William or something. How humiliating. And things were only about to get better.

* * *

I was sitting at my dresser later that night, just getting over what had to have been the biggest verbal abusing turned comforting episode of my life. Apparently Father Dom had rang up my mother and informed her personally that I had received detention (it could have been because it was only the 10th time that month, but I'm not sure), and why. I don't understand – I know Father Dom thinks I should be honest about my 'gift' with them, but every scenario I imagine in my head never ends well. Like she'd believe me anyway – she'd probably make sure I wasn't high on cocaine or whatever. Needless to say, she totally didn't believe me about my stalker moment – something that only sent her on another round of rants – until Sleepy came to my defence.

Then she'd gone all wobbly-eyed, and pulled me into a hug and gone all "Oh baby, how horrible! Are you okay? You aren't hurt are you?" I answered her as best as I could, trying to calm her down and convince her it had been no big deal, while my face was crushed into her shoulder. There was a little segment on the news just claiming that the two guys had been caught thanks to help from a number of members of the Carmel community, and Sleepy clapped himself on for his efforts. Uh huh.

After having dinner – lasagne – I excused myself upstairs quickly, on the account of the fact I was shaking after watching it, and what they had been wanted for. Like _shaking_.

It was like I was shivering – freezing – but no amount of warmth would stop it. It was a weird feeling that made me want to cry and scream and break something all at the same time. It was so hard to explain, but I felt like I was being suffocated by my emotions which were stirring inside me. And this totally weirded me out, considering it hadn't been the worst mess I've ever been in before, but it was just so real. It wasn't like I was fighting a ghost, which I could simply exorcise straight away. It had moved me, shocked me right down, and not just because I could have been murdered. I took a bath and relaxed, feeling the water seep over my skin, and with every passing hour, the feeling ebbed away, becoming less and less dramatic. Maybe it was just shock, like how the situation only hits you after it has happened.

_(A/N: Having gone through something similar to this before, I'm just recounting the emotions I felt after it had happened, putting it into words as best as I can)_

And in the next episode: Susannah Simon gets the reality check we've all been waiting for, I thought.

I dressed into my comfiest pj's, and shoved on a Jennifer Lopez album, On The 6, I think it's called. My mother, so happy I hadn't gotten killed and had fought the 'criminals' off, had relented a little on the punishment stakes and given me access to my stereo once more. I was listening to the lyrics that were floating out of the speakers, when Jennifer started muttering in Spanish. Although incredibly relaxing, I perked up when I heard her say "ke-reeda" something. Isn't that what Jesse called me when he wanted to annoy me?

_(A/N: Totally not kidding here guys – check it out for yourself: Should've Never, towards the end of the song)_

This only served to make me more determined to find out what it meant. Next time I saw Jesse, he was going down.

I was thinking this when there was a tap on my bay window. There was a silhouette of someone – it looked like a male – but I couldn't really make it out since the lighting in my room was so dim, to match the mood J.Lo was setting.

Cautiously, I walked over to the window, but relaxed when I saw who it was – Paul. But what in the hell?

Pulling the window open, he climbed in, a grin evident on his face. "Hey babe,"

I frowned. "What are you doing? Sneaking in through my window?"

He shrugged, walking over to my door and locking it. This served to creep me out a little bit, but I didn't say anything. "Never done it, and besides, I wanted to see my girlfriend. Something so wrong about that?"

Shaking my head, he strode over and pulled my lips onto his, walking us over onto my bed. We collapsed onto it, his body weight slightly crushing me until he transferred it onto his forearms. Again I found myself falling into that pool of happiness that I often sank into whenever his mouth met mine; a well of eternal bliss with a promise that things would get better, if only I got closer. Holding Paul's neck, I held him as tightly as I could against me, trying to get as physically close to him as possible.

And man, is it getting hot in here or what?

I shrugged off my flannelette shirt that I wore open over my singlet top and tossed it yonder, continuing to kiss him with a passion I never knew could be mustered. Maybe it was because of what had happened, and how I might have not been here, kissing my boyfriend like this if things had gone differently. That would be a major sacrifice, I tell you – definitely if your total hottie of a boyfriend was holding you so close and making you feel _so_ good.

My hunger for him seemed to become even more pronounced the minute he'd lost his shirt, warming our bodies with our heat combined, and his knee pressed in between my thighs. I just wanted him so much. His hands wandered down my exposed stomach, trailing circles with his fingertips and making me giggle in pleasure and delight. The giggles though, turned into a gasp when he tried slipping my pajama bottoms off.

"Paul, please stop," I breathed heavily, shoving him off.

He looked slightly annoyed. "Suze… please – it's been forever,"

"Didn't you hear what happened to me just this afternoon, Paul?" I asked un-happily. Of course he didn't know, but he should. On the boyfriend-411 line. "I was assaulted by two older men just this afternoon. I just don't feel-" And he kissed me again. I sighed and returned it for a little until he went for the pants again, then I wrenched my face away from his again.

"Please!" I said exasperatedly, half-annoyed and hurt that he didn't even care what had happened to me, "I'm not ready Paul,"

Pulling me towards him again, he stated heavily, "Your body is telling me a different story,"

I shook my head, and kept my lips out of his reach. "Paul, don't do this, I'm not ready for that yet,"

He let go of me angrily. "Jeez, Suze, when will you be? We've been going out for practically forever,"

Correction: 5 months. So _not_ forever.

I shrugged.

Reaching for my arm, he stared into my eyes, melting me with his blue ones. "Can you just tell me when you will be ready Suze? Because I'm going crazy here, and I want you,"

I blushed a little. "I-I don't know Paul. I'll… just not now okay? Soon,"

"Soon," he looked at me sceptically.

I nodded, even though I honestly knew I could never give him an answer.

* * *

I rose at 7 the next morning, leaving me enough time to do my primping in time for school. Slipping on my black denim mini-skirt and red off the shoulder top, I expertly curled my hair, applied some black eyeliner and lipgloss before jamming my feet into a pair of Jimmy Choos. Running down the stairs, I walked into the kitchen to find Jesse and Doc sitting on the stools and chatting. It was a rather astonishing sight.

Stopping dead, I frowned. "What are you doing here so early?" I asked conversationally as I grabbed a piece of bread and put it into the toaster.

Jesse shrugged. "Considering what happened yesterday I was going to make sure you got to school okay today,"

I frowned. "Doesn't Do- I mean, doesn't Brad usually drive us?"

"He couldn't," Doc piped up, "he had to go and see Debbie,"

My shoulders fell. I really wasn't all that enthused to being driven to school, like I needed to be baby-sat or something.

The toaster popped, and after putting some jam on it, I picked up my bag and followed Jesse and Doc and out of the door. Doc jumped in the back of Jesse's car, which I couldn't help noticing was just as nice as Paul's. Not that I'm materialistic or anything. I'm sure it could clock up over 200 if you really wanted it to.

"You're looking very nice today _querida_," Jesse remarked so softly behind me that I barely heard.

"What," I turned around to face him, "does ke-reeda mean? I swear I'm gonna beat your ass if you don't tell me,"

Laughing softly, he shook his head. "Not saying a word,"

I huffed immaturely. "Not fair. Fine – I'll take up another language so I can call you swear words you don't understand, you _sheizerkopf_,"

He stopped laughing almost immediately. "Shithead? You've gotta do better than that,"

Pursing my lips, I sat in the front next to him and crossed my arms. This really sucked. Finally we pulled into the Junipero carpark, and I jumped out, happy to be away from him.

My other step-brother departed quickly with a cheerful wave. I was about to leave too, when Jesse grabbed my arm. "Wait a minute _querida_, I need to tell you something,"

Stopping, I looked over at him. He stood there, so sure of himself – like he was the epitome of confidence. And hotness.

"What?" I asked.

He let go of my arm, looking at me carefully. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

Nodding, I asked incredulously, "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

Walking towards me a little closer, he whispered, "Don't let him make you do things you don't want to Susannah. Don't make him pressure you,"

My eyes widened. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"When you lie, your mouth twitches," he answered. And then he kissed me.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make me realise that it was nothing I had ever felt with Paul. Jesse's touch was sweet and gentle, like a kiss was all that was needed to express everything, without the need to remove 50 percent of both his and my clothes first.

Without thinking, I responded by stepping on the tips of my toes and reaching his lips with my own. How could I not? It was like I'd been waiting for someone else – that someone obviously not being Paul – to let me realise something. That something I wasn't incredibly sure of yet, but I knew that Jesse might be the one who knew. I totally forgot I was in the school carpark, forgot about everything. I was sinking deeper and deeper into his embrace, marvelling at how great a kisser he was, how he made me feel, how awesome it felt being in his arms when-

DEET! DEET! DEET!

I opened up my eyes, and sat upright in my bed. The sheets were wrapped around my legs, and my hair was probably a total mess. Kissing Jesse, it had been…

A dream. I had dreamed about kissing a guy and loving it.

And that guy hadn't been Paul.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Hope this chappy was okay (I really didn't like most of it, especially the first half, but it was needed) – please review and tell me what you think! I'll respond to the lovely reviews I received for the last chapter probably in a future update. I haven't got that much time at the moment, but thanks, it really means heaps and is the main reason why you guys are still reading this story!

**Luv sarah xoxo**


	5. Losing Grip

**A/N: Aye. Allota Jesse in this chapter. Sorta feel bad about the whole Jesse-kissing-her-turned-out-to-be-a-dream type thing, so I'm filling this chapter with some extra Jesse-ness, just for all you reviewers who made me get up off my butt and write this. And for Paul fans… there's some Paul-ness too. Without a shirt. That's all I'm saying. **

Chapter 5 – Losing Grip

Slithering out of bed, I fell into the shower and turned the cold on full blast. I shivered as the cool droplets descended down my body, in the hopes it would wash away the dream. I felt stupid and gross – it was the betrayal of my mind I felt so bad about. I was with Paul, but in my dream for something that was so wrong, it had seemed totally perfect. It had felt so real.

And so right. That is what kicked realities ass more than anything. The fact I'd actually enjoyed it.

AM I COMPLETELY OUT OF IT?

I was officially the worst girlfriend in the universe. Seriously, I mean, I have dreams you could call inappropriate about older, hotter Spanish guys that aren't my boyfriend. And it's not like I even like the guy. I don't like Jesse, I swear, I don't. He babies me like his little sister and is constantly making jokes at my expense. He's so irritating.

So why couldn't I stop thinking about it? Was the dream for real, like a premonition, or was it just a metaphor? That it wasn't actually Jesse kissing me, but something else that was trying to get through my subconscious. I have no clue.

Hopping out of the shower, I curled my hair like I had planned to, applied my makeup and walked over to my closet. My eyes fell upon the outfit I'd planned to wear – a red one-shoulder top, black pleated denim skirt and JC's.

_Just like my dream._

It was only a dream, I told myself as I tugged on the skirt. A dream you can never tell anyone about.

Thundering down the stairs, I grabbed a piece of toast, jammed it into the toaster and started to drink some water. Until I turned around. Doc and Jesse were sitting on the kitchen stools, chatting.

Oh my freaking god. I almost spat the water that was still left in my mouth out like a fountain. What is _with_ this? Is everything off it's axis today?

"Good morning Susannah, mind you consume the rest of your breakfast in the same way," Jesse said good-naturedly, as I embarrassingly tried to swallow. That voice… the last time I heard it was…

Stop it Suze.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to splutter.

He smiled simply, as Doc said "He's driving us to school,"

"Huh,"

"Yeah, Brad had to go and see Debbie,"

Blinking, I turned out of the kitchen and began running up the stairs. It was just a REPEAT! A freaking REPEAT! I was dreaming inside a dream. Is that even possible? "I'm going back to bed!" I called.

I finally reached my door, and I gave a final glance behind me.

Lets just say it's a good thing I inherited a strong heart from my mother's side, or I'd be a little dead right now. Making an unattractive noise, I jumped a mile in the air.

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "Susannah, is something wrong? I'm sorry,"

I gave him my trademark eye roll. "You didn't say anything… I just," my voice trailed off hopelessly. What was I going to do? Tell him, _Oh, I can barely look at you seeing as I had a particularly good but bad dream about us last night, and I really liked it? _I didn't want to scare the guy. I shrugged, leaning against my door. "Nothing's wrong,"

He squinted at me. "Something's wrong. I can tell. Your mouth twitches when you lie, you know that right?"

I stared up at him shocked. No way. Freaking repeat. Same but different. Jeez louise.

"What? It does not," and to my utter disbelief, I felt my mouth move involuntary. Not fair.

He laughed a little, and laid a hand on my arm, pulling me down the stairs. I shivered, and hoped he didn't notice. It was bad enough he knew if I was lying.

But that was so _weird_. I mean, Paul had never noticed it, and I lied all the time. My parents or Andy never had either.

This sucks royal ass.

After hopping out of Jesse's car and waving goodbye, I walked over to the flagpost in the front courtyard and met my friends. Paul strode over and gave me a large over-enthusiastic kiss. He must want something. Oh brother.

"Babe, I'm throwing a massive pool party at mine this Friday – think you could sneak out?"

It only occurred to me then that Paul practically never called me by my name anymore. And to be honest, it was starting to bug me a little.

"I dunno,"

"Look, most of our grade, as well as a lot of NoCal people are coming… if you're wondering," he assured me.

"Oh, come on Simon, It's not a party unless you're there!" Kelly whined.

And I suspected I was the skid mark in the underpants of social outings. So I settled with a nod. "Okay," Kelly squealed and hugged me so tightly, I was in fear of drowning in hairspray and Calvin Klein.

"5 minutes until class," Paul stated, checking his watch and tugging on my arm, "come on,"

Kelly released me and I followed him around the side of the building. "Paul," I asked conversationally, "what are you going to be after school?"

To be a politician, I expected him to answer. Instead he started laughing heartily. "Oh Suze, you crack me up. You can't be serious,"

Frowning, I answered, "Duh, of course I'm serious,"

Shaking his head, he pressed me up against the bricks that made up the stone wall. "It's just… that's so serious Suze," he fingered a coil of hair that had fallen in front of my face, "and we both know you're not serious,"

I was definitely hurt by that. Sure, I'm not exactly the epitome of good here, but still. "What do you mean? You think I'm only good for partying and making out with? Is that it?"

I have no idea why I had asked that question, but I'd always wondered if he'd thought about the future. And obviously thinking about it was something Paul thought both he and I had no interest in discussing. And made me feel sorta shitty in the process too.

Jesse never did.

Oh god. I can't believe I'm actually _comparing_ the two of them together. It's because of that stupid dream, which keeps kicking the back of my mind. Who knew my subconscious had so much control over my sanity?

My anger must have been evident on my face, because he smiled apologetically and trailed a finger down my cheek. "Sorry, but you in Yoda-mode is really unusual," I should have realized then that I didn't have the usual reaction to his touch, but I blamed it on not being in the zone.

I was just a little pissed at him, like.

He leant forward and brushed his lips with mine. "I've been thinking," Paul looked seriously at me, "I know you're not ready, and I understand that, but I just wanted you to know that I hope you change your mind soon. You're so beautiful…"

I swallowed. I was trying to think up a pliable excuse when I heard Sister Ernestine begin shouting for all the students to get into their lines. Glad to escape, I walked back into the courtyard without so much as a backward glance. It was a little unnerving, the way he was so into pressuring me all the time. But the more he tried, the more my interest in it abated. I did not want to lose it to him, because he wasn't the One. Granted, I didn't know who was, but it wasn't him. I knew that at least.

I was summoned to Father Dom's office again during Trigonometry. I was so used to this, though, that I didn't care. I mean, I must be the only person who visits him so much. "So Father D," I said, after I plunked myself in the usual chair and grabbed a rebound ball that had been confiscated, "what's on your mind today?"

He sent me a confused look. "Surely that's not all you have to say,"

I pursed my lips in what I hoped was an innocent pout, and bounced the ball on the hard floor. "Have no idea what you're talking about D,"

"The serial killers that tried to capture you yesterday… surely you want to talk about it?"

Down went the ball. "Not exactly, it was no big deal,"

"No big deal?" Up went the ball and I caught it, before throwing it again, "Susannah, they had murdered 7 girls already,"

I raised my eyebrows in what I hoped was an interested expression. Down went the ball. "7? I heard it was 5,"

I had already gone through this a million times in my head the night before – I don't think I needed someone else to repeat what I was already fully aware of, thankyou.

"Susannah, this surliness… it's not very convincing," down went the ball.

"Isn't it? I'll have to work on that,"

"Susannah!" Father Dom said, frustrated with me already. I guess I should go a little easier on the guy – I could practically hear his heart attack beginning. "Please, don't act like this – over the past few months you have gotten significantly worse… since summer, when you met Paul,"

The ball ricocheted off the floor and hit the opposite wall, before bouncing out the window. Oops.

"Are we finished?" I asked.

He cradled his head in his hand and pushed a hall pass across the desk with the other. "Oh, what did I do to deserve this?" he mumbled unhappily.

Don't we all ask that question at least a dozen times a day? I know I do.

I stepped out of his office, and was beginning the walk up the breezeway when an unseen force knocked me sideways, sending me sprawling into the barrier surrounding the fountain. Like, ouch.

Looking up blearily, I saw a female teenager probably around my age, give or take a year, giving me an incessantly dirty look. I guess I've pissed a few ghosts off in the last month, but what you gonna do about it?

"What," I coughed, "was that for?"

She burst into tears, sobbing and wailing like a banshee, or one of those female vampires off Van Helsing.

Very loud.

"Will you QUIT IT?" I pretty much screamed as I put my weight on my feet and began to shuffle over miserably. My skirt was probably ruined now, thanks to this wailing chicky center stage left.

"You…" she sobbed, "didn't do anything to them!"

I blinked. "Huh?" I asked dumbly. Whoa. I'm about as sharp as a bowling ball today aren't I? I mean, I know it's only a Wednesday morning, but sheesh.

"You didn't do anything! And they've hurt so many people!"

"Um… I musta missed the memo – who?"

She continued to howl even more. Aye, do you need a license to be so annoying or something?

"Those guys… the one's who tried to get you… they have hurt so many-"

"Whoa," I cut in, "You're one of the 7 girls?"

The girl sniffed, unappreciative of my sudden burst of intuition. "Yeah, one of the SEVEN girls. Glad to see I'm just a stat, you know, at least I'm THERE," she mumbled, more to herself than me. If she was trying the whole guilt trip thing, it wouldn't work – heck, it never works on me.

Anyhoo, I did what I was supposed to. I asked, in a distinctly calm (ha!) voice "What is your name then?"

"Mina Thomason," she said, as a tear rolled down her tanned cheek.

"Okay, then Mina," I continued reasonably, "I don't know if I can do much – the police have captured them and locked them in jail."

Well, to put it simply, she didn't like that. Obviously, this was not what she wanted to hear.

"You LIE! All mediators are bloody LIARS!" and she tossed me aside with a little of her physic energy or whatever you call it. I landed sprawling near the row of lockers, coming _this close_ to flashing my Victorias Secret undies. And now I was officially pissed off. Like 'everyone evacuate before Suze goes COMPLETELY MENTAL' type pissed off. And when I get pissed, people eat concrete.

And I make sure it's digested.

I pulled myself up and strode towards her, my fists clenched tightly. She was standing there, watching me come forward, and daring me with her eyes to move one step closer.

I don't disappoint.

"Oh Mina?" I asked kindly, "I've been rather rude. I just thought I should introduce you to a few friends of mine," I was standing nose to nose with Mina, who had gone from a crying wimp to an assured bimbo. She gazed coolly at me, until I sunk a clenched hand into her stomach. "Left fist," I rounded my right in the same position, "and right fist," she fell backwards, hitting her blonde head on some seats nearby. I blew on both my knuckles and strode forward.

Being a ghost, her recovery time is simply so much faster than us mere mortals. Mina jumped up quickly, and tossed the whole seat she had fallen on in my direction, falling through the air with one target – me. I dived behind the nearest stone pillar before my head connected with it, and scrambled around the remaining seat so I was behind her. It was obvious she hadn't been a fighter when she was alive, but now she was dead, and pretty angry, it didn't matter. The only thing I could jump up and down about was the fact that yes, she was a ghost – giving her unnatural strength and all that jazz – but she wasn't smart. She wasn't tactful. And not a neuron in her brain knew how to fight properly. So she didn't figure I'd get her from behind and knock her out with a stick that had been stuck behind the remaining chair. At least, if she had, she didn't do too much to stop it.

Mina fell down onto the floor tragically, and I grabbed her booted foot and dragged her down to Father Dominic's office.

And all I'd wanted to do was go to Trig.

* * *

Walking into the carpark after last period had let out, I was surprised to see Jesse, not Brad there, yet again. "What are you here for?" I asked, surprised.

Smiling easily, he answered, "Hello to you too _querida_,"

"What does that word mean?" I demanded.

Jesse shook his head, pretending to have no idea what I was talking about. "What does what mean? Hello? I believe it is an English greeting," he opened up the car door for me. "Where to?"

I shot him an angry look, which diminished a little when he pulled the puppy-dog eyes on me. Okay, I tell you, this is weird. When Paul does it, I feel nothing. _Nada_. Now when Jesse does it…

This was like a square peg in my side.

What makes Latino dudes so hot anyway? I mean, seriously. I can't believe the fact I was letting his deep brown eyes sway me, or his tanned skin and gorgeous smile… and rock-hard abs, if my dream was correct.

Whoa. HALT! What the hell am I doing? I'm checking out Sleepy's college friend! Suze, you're such a slut! YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND! I swallowed, and my stomach started to Hang Ten. It was so unusual for me to suddenly be nervous around someone – I mean, I'm never nervous around anyone. I don't care what they think about me. It's their problem if they do not like my totally sublime and infectious personality. Cough.

So why did I suddenly care so much?

"Anyway – wouldn't your girlfriend be getting all annoyed coz you're like, driving me everywhere?" I said, while looking out the window.

"Actually, I don't have a girlfriend," he replied easily. I turned and gaped at him. Now this, this was something that wasn't right. I mean, I expected him to probably be dating a model or some other totally gorgeous college girl or something.

"Whoa," I muttered.

"What was that?"

I shut my gob. "Nothing… I just, presumed, that's all,"

"Presumed," he murmured, before laughing. Personally I didn't see what was so funny, but eventually I just went along with it.

This Californian air has got me real good.

I was sitting on my roof later that night, sipping some of whatever I had managed to sneak from the bar when I got a visitor from beyond. By instinct I figured it was either Mina, or Trista and Greg, coming to bitch about how the necklace hadn't gone to the desired place or I hadn't totally beaten those hussy guys up, but it turned out not to be them. It was someone even worse.

My dad.

"Susannah," he said angrily. I smiled sheepishly and waggled my fingers at him.

"Lo,"

He came over and took the bottle out of my hands, before sitting next to me. "Suze, what are you doing?"

Why do people keep asking that? It's a major pain in the membrane, if you know what I mean. "Staring at the stars. I'm thinking of doing my science project on astrology,"

And the classics just keep coming.

"It's astronomy, and you don't know me that well if you think I'll believe that," he answered, sounding fed up.

I sighed, and made a reach for the bottle again. He kept it clean out of my grip.

"Dad, please, just give it back,"

He frowned. "Absolutely not. You are underage, and you're abusing it,"

"I am not hitting it,"

"If that was a joke, it was pretty lame, even for you Suze," Dad said.

I blew hard, sending my hair to go fluttering out of my face. "What else am I supposed to do Dad? Be happy? I can't be!"

He put his hand around my shoulders and half-hugged me. "And why can't you kiddo?"

"Because I'm not happy here. I hate it so much, and it's so unfair that we had to move out here where everyone is rich and plastic,"

Making a sort of tut-tutting noise, he asked, "Don't you want your mother to be happy?"

There was itchiness in the corner of my eyes that I seemed to be reacting to. My eyes were beginning to hurt and water, which made concentrating on the question pretty difficult. "I do, but… I don't know what I want."

"You don't have to be like this Susannah. Just let go of the anger you're feeling. Let it all go," he squeezed me, "the answers to all of your questions are closer than you think,"

I looked up at him. "Quit the cryptic shit dad, where are they?"

My father just smiled sadly. "I cannot tell you that. This is something you are going to have to figure out for yourself, in your own time,"

I rolled my eyes and went for the bottle again. "But not," he threw it, defying every law of gravity, into the ocean that was at least a mile away, "with alcohol. I cannot tell you what you must do, because I know you won't listen, but I'll try anyway. Don't do this to yourself, not like this. You won't get anywhere like this,"

Frowning at him, I stood up, looking at the moon. The watering in my eyelids had gotten significantly worse, and it was starting to piss my egotistical ass off. "Dad, you're making no sense. How can I? I don't know what to do," but when I turned around, he was gone.

It was only when I had started walking back towards the window in a huff did I hear my father whisper in my ear, "Do not trust the one you think you should, but the one you _know_ you should," I shivered, and glared at nothing in particular. Why couldn't they ever just tell you, without going all Matrix-ey? The minute someone points out there is no spoon, I'm so outta here.

* * *

By the time Friday had come around, I was blessed with a few things – Mom and Andy had left to San Francisco for a promotional party and Brad agreed to drive me to Paul's, seeing as he was invited. He was probably excited to get in another round of heavy making out with his love puppy Debbie. Right. When I had arrived at Paul's, the party was in full swing. Different genres of music were blasting through the speakers that were stationed around his indoor pool, and I saw quite a few people in it doing on the things you would it there were bikinis and free alcohol involved. I am so sure.

I finally located Paul near the bar, and the minute my presence was made known a drink was thrust into my hand. I guess the drinking Olympics had begun. After a matter of minutes it had disappeared down my throat. I guess I'd forgotten how likeable vodka was during my week without it. Debbie came up to us both, clad in her usual party wear, and said that she needed to talk to Paul. I shrugged, and coupled it chugging down half a bottle of a cruiser. Pineapple. Nice.

Rolling up my jeans and throwing my shoes over near the wall, I slipped my feet into the warm water. A guy I barely knew to be one of Sleepy's stoned mates swam over. "Hey… Suze isn't it?"

"That's my name,"

"Jordan," he grinned, looking half awake as he rubbed his blonde hair out of his eyes. "Where's Jake?"

I shrugged. "At home. Sitting for David, I hope," Taking another swig of my cruiser, he sat up next to me, water sloshing over the sides and from his board shorts onto my Seven jeans. He held out his hand and finished the rest of it.

"You taken?" he asked cheekily.

I clicked my tongue. "Yes,"

Nudging me playfully he said, "Bummer man. Well, when you dump the sorry asshole, you know where ta find me," and he jumped back in the pool again, over to the group of half-naked girls straddling some guys.

Getting up, I made my way back over to the bar, got another pineapple drink, and walked around the party. People that I didn't even know greeted me happily, slapping my back. I would just smile, respond and walk away. Kelly rushed up behind me and gave me a massive hug. "You're here! Awesome… that pineapple?" I nodded and she snatched it, downing it in 2.5 seconds. I'm not kidding – had the stopwatch and everything.

Finally Paul came up to me and handed me another opened bottle to replace it. "Where have you been?" I asked over the loud music.

He shrugged. "Around, looking for you mostly,"

I was about to take a mouthful when it was snatched out of my hand. Whipping around fiercely to see who would dare steal my drink right out of my grip, I came face to face with well… Jesse. It's not like I was surprised. I've been doing an awful lot of that. Running into Jesse, I mean. He smiled. "Susannah, I thought you would know better than to accept opened drinks from guys you have just met,"

I frowned, and snatched it back. "Yeah, whatever. Paul here is my boyfriend,"

Jesse raised his eyebrows and looked beyond me at Paul. "Really? Slater, right?"

Paul nodded dully, looking threatened. I don't know why, but I guess Paul is the whole dominant-male type. "Don't you have somewhere to be Rico?"

"Paul!" I demanded hotly, "Come on, don't be like that," I turned to Jesse who looked clearly disgusted. "Sorry, Jesse, I'll see you around,"

Shaking his head, he walked off. I turned to Paul angrily, "What was that for?"

He looked defensive. "You're like all over him! How could I not suspect you like the Spanish dude?"

I gaped at him. "I do not. You could not be more wrong,"

"Whatever. Are you sleeping with him, and that's why you won't with me?"

I can't believe he pulled that line. Seriously. "You can't honestly believe that that's true,"

Paul shrugged. "I don't know what to think anymore," he said and stalked off. Oh peachy. How could he accuse me about something like that? I do not like Jesse.

Do freaking NOT.

Stop looking at me like that. It's true.

Needless to say, I went into the worst mood if there ever was one. I don't remember how much I drank, all I remember is in the total of 4 hours I couldn't remember exactly how many different bottles had been in my hand. _(A/N: 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer, take one down, chug it around, 98 bottles of beer)_ I guess it was just a way to match the anger I was feeling inside. What did Paul take me for, a whore or something? Surely he couldn't honestly believe I'd be cheating on him. It wouldn't even be worth the effort, if you ask me, to cheat on someone.

Slowly but surely, I began to feel numb. I knew, having experienced this feeling so much, that the alcohol was taking over. So I let it. And it felt good, not having to marvel at how crap my life is – how I can see dead people, how my boyfriend thinks I'm a frigid bitch who won't sleep with him, how I don't even like my friends…

And then it was like I was seeing the world through different eyes. Everything was hazy and unfocused, yet I could feel nothing. I collapsed on the nearest horizontal surface. There was a loud, steady pounding of something on my eardrums, but I could no longer make out what it was. It sounded muffled, like I was hearing everything through a sheet of glass. A figure loomed in front of me.

"Suze, are you okay? Come on babe, let me help you," I knew that voice. And I trusted it. I felt the smallest grip on my wrist, when another figure appeared next to the one in front of me. The muffled sounds rose higher, and there was a lot of movement going on in front of me. The tightened sensation on my wrist disappeared, and I collapsed again, cradling my head in my hands. Everything was so difficult to process! What was happening, what was going on? I had never experienced it this bad before… I had really done a number on myself this time. The scuffle stopped, and I felt the grip return. This one was different, gentler.

"Susannah, please, come with me,"

Then that grip left, like it had never been there in the first place, and was replaced by the one before that. I trusted that person, because I had heard that voice every day for a long time. They wouldn't hurt me. The other figure disappeared, and I was being led up something… stairs, I think, if the quick ascending was anything to go by. I could barely process a door being opened, a lot of silver clashing with a little bit of green, and that the pounding sound was muffled even further. "Come here," that person tugged on my arm a little, and led me over to the green thing. I could barely even reason anymore. Where was I? Who was I with? It all just seemed too jumbled, and I couldn't care to figure it out.

Opening my eyes blearily, I was hit with the most shocking headache, ever. I swear, it felt like someone was playing bongo drums against my head, it throbbed so much. I rubbed my eyes vigorously and looked around.

(for the aussies) And in the famous words of Rove McManus – What The…?

I wasn't in my princessy room with the sickening canopy and blue dotted wallpaper. Everything was made out of steel and glass, with that sterilized air around it which made it seem cold and uncomfortable. I remembered it, but vaguely. It was right there, but out of reach. I shivered and shifted slightly, wincing as both my head and lower body throbbed. It was a different kind of pain, but it hurt heaps anyway. Ignoring the searing pain from both respective places, I looked around. My jeans – why were they on the floor? I sensed a presence next to me and glanced.

Needless to say, a double take was necessary.

It was Paul. Ookay… did I sleepover or something? I tried to think back to the previous night, but all I remembered were flashes – sitting at the side of the pool, sitting with two people in front of me whose faces I couldn't make out, loud music with no distinct words… and then it was gone, like water draining through a clenched fist. He was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He does have a very nice chest, all toned and muscley and…

Huh? Does he usually sleep topless during winter? I shivered again and drew my arms around my chest, which was covered with goose bumps. My chest… was completely stark naked! I bit my lip, hoping against hope that it was just second base gone slightly crazy and lifted up the green covers. My chest was exposed… and so was the rest of my body.

OH MY FREAKING GOD!

It hit me like icy water. I… I was naked. Paul was too. I was in his bed, sore and…

My eyes acquired that itchiness and watery problem again as the realization sunk in. I had had sex with Paul Slater, and couldn't remember a thing about it.

**A/N: Oh well, that's the ending. I couldn't think of anything else to put in this chapter without making it as dense as Jane Eyre. I know I promised I'd respond to the reviews, but I don't have a lot of time at the mo, so NEXT UPDATE! I swear on my pinkies! **

**Neways, for me to update quicker, I'll need reviews. So… review my darlings, review. Tell me if I was a crazy biatch for making her sleep with Paul. Tell me you hate the fact nothing kissy kissy is happening on the Jesse-front. Tell me to stop making her drink. Tell me not to make her do any of this in the future.**

**Because I'll do it anyway.**

**Luv sarah xoxo**


	6. Drink Like You Mean It

**Chapter 6 – Drink Like You Mean It**

The waves of the sea down below the cliff crashed mercilessly against the sharp rocks, boasting their freedom. They were tormenting me, showing me what I'll never be – free. I kept trying to think back to last night, but it was like that part had disappeared, like it was never there to begin with.

It would have been easy to blame anyone – everyone – but myself. But the truth was, it was my fault. If I had of not let myself drift away, let the alcohol take over my mind, I wouldn't be in the predicament I am right now. Which was sitting at the point, the place where Paul and I first kissed, way back at the beginning of summer when he was staying at the resort. I felt empty, like something was missing that I couldn't identify. All I kept doing was reliving my last hour – the only thing I could remember from Paul's – over and over in my head.

After my royal freak out, the itchiness in my eyes worsened. I threw back the covers and quickly propelled myself over to my clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor beside the bed. I was lacing up the strings on my top, fumbling through the water clouding my eyes, when Paul stirred. He looked beside him at the overturned bed-sheets, then over at me. Frowning and obviously noticing my traitorous allergies, he motioned for me to come over.

"Suze, what's up?"

What's up? WHAT'S UP?

Shaking, I sat down on the very edge with my back to my boyfriend. This was so not how it was supposed to go. I had always imagined I'd wake up, in the arms of the guy I had loved more than anything, feeling totally safe, protected and all that other mushy stuff I won't say out loud. But that wish, that fantasy would never come true. And I'd felt extremely stupid for actually thinking it in the first place.

"Suze… please talk to me,"

I cleared my throat, which had become strangely blocked. "You-you knew I didn't want to, but you still did it," I managed to choke out.

I could hear surprise evident in his tone. "What? I don't get it babe – you said that you were,"

"What?"

"You said that you were ready. Last night,"

Shaking my head, I turned around to face him. "No… I wouldn't, I would have never,"

Because that was true. There would have been NO WAY I'd consented to it. Right? I mean, I promised myself and everything.

Paul grabbed my shoulder. "You swore you were and I… I believed you,"

Man, that itchiness is really starting to annoy my socks off. "I was drunk," I accused bluntly.

"You swore you weren't,"

I frowned at him, especially since he was smiling. He also seemed to have a bruise on the side of his face. It wasn't extremely noticeable or anything, but it was still _there_. What happened last night?

"But if it makes you feel any better, you were pretty amazing babe,"

I grabbed the pillow I had been sleeping on and pummelled him with it. Storming out of his room and down the staircase, I found the house in complete disarray. It was a total mess. Plastic cups lay strewn across the tiles, a collection of half-filled and empty bottles littered benches, garbage cans and the pool, not to mention at least half a dozen people passed out on the couches and floors alike. The morning after always sucks carrots.

Hobbling over to the door, I swung it open and ran down the stairs, trying to make out the cars parked out the front through all the heavy fog, in a hope I might locate Dopey's, if he was still here. My hopes, though, like a lot of things these days, didn't mean much, so I found myself walking home. Anything to get away from there.

Because the thing is – it wasn't Paul's fault. I mean, I could have sworn I wasn't drunk and I was ready. It wasn't like I was immune to my occasional cases of my inner bimbo rising to the surface. Not that I could remember anything, but I obviously in the heat of the moment or something I forgot to mention their was a 'No Entry' sign plastered down below. Or maybe I just gave up and fell into temptation. Not knowing was driving me utterly crazy. I stared down at the glass I had been holding – a bottle filled with a tiny bit of tequila, something I had snatched before leaving. I thought it might come in need, you know, get drunk to get over my hangover, and so I can hopefully forget just how much of a slut and failure that I really am.

Ignoring the fact it was only 8 in the morning, I brought it to my lips and felt the warm liquid trickle down my throat and heat up my chest. I revelled in the taste of the alcohol, before taking another larger gulp. Tequila was my only friend, the only person who understood me in the crazy mixed up world I was living in. Not my mother, not Kelly, not Paul, not Brad… (like, duh) alcohol made me feel better, happier, in ways normal people could not.

"Susannah,"

The fog was beginning to thin a little now, so I could see more of the ocean than just the shore. It stretched out, moving lazily and without a care. I wish I could be like that – just escape from everything and not care. Because I didn't, not anymore. The only thing that mattered to me, my innocence, was gone.

"Susannah,"

I mean, it was obvious that everyone thought I was completely worthless. Paul had more or less confirmed this earlier in the week. Nobody expected much else to come from me than a job at Mickey D's as a waitress… part-time.

"Susannah," I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I tensed up. Looking up, I found myself staring into Jesse's deep brown eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking concerned. I guess I probably don't look spring time fresh – I hadn't brushed my hair and couldn't only imagine what I looked like. Instead of answering him, I took another sip of the tequila and stared at nothing. I didn't care that he sat down next to me. I didn't care why he was here, or why he was still hanging around. All I wanted was to be numb again.

So when Jesse grabbed it in a matter much like my father's and tossed it over the railing, I got pretty angry.

"Why do people keep doing that!" I demanded to no one in particular, as I watched the glass crash onto the rocks several hundred feet below.

I looked at Jesse furiously. The way in which he was sitting there serenely just made me even more pissed. He was obviously waiting for me to cool down or some other shit like that. I didn't need cooling down – I was already freezing.

Literally. Did I mention I was only wearing a singlet top? In winter?

Not wanting to disappoint him, I asked sharply, "So, why are you here?"

His face just remained expressionless, his eyes completely unreadable. He looked like the perfect detective, where nothing surprised him. "Looking for you Susannah,"

I made a very rude noise. "Right. Well, you found me. See you later then," But he didn't move. I don't even think a hair flinched. That's how stubborn he was. He continued as if I'd never commented.

"Your… boyfriend was looking for you back at his house,"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't tell me – you're one of the people that were passed out on the couch,"

He shook his head. "No, I wasn't,"

"Then you were probably performing the horizontal Macarena with some random chick you just met,"

Again, nothing changed, except a little glint in his eye. I could have sworn it was hurt, but most likely it was probably guilt that I had guessed it or whatever. It's not like a guy this attractive was ever spared of girls, I'm sure.

"Yes, I did sleep over, but that was because I had drunk a little. I don't like the idea of having an accident, if you ask me. Besides, why does it kill you so much that people were worried about you?"

Leaning over the rail on my elbows, I turned my gaze back onto the sea. "No one is ever worried about me. People have to like you to care about you, something in which I lack. Nobody gives a shit about me,"

I heard Jesse get up and walk over. "Some of us do,"

"Name one," I replied shortly.

There was a silence, before he changed the subject. "So, how long have you and Paul been dating?"

Snorting, I said, "I doubt dating is exactly what you'd call it. He's never taken me anywhere, except a party. He doesn't do the romantic crap,"

"Then what does he do?"

_Me_, I wanted to say, but it's not like I was going to tell Jesse that. He'd probably wonder what the big deal was even if I did. I don't think guys get caught up in sex and emotions the way we do. I turned and looked at him, watching the slight breeze toss his black hair around. He really was something, one of those natural good-looking people. Although, I noticed, he didn't seem to realise just how goddam hot he was, unlike other people.

Cough. Boyfriend. Cough.

"Why do you care so much?" I settled on asking.

He shrugged. "I just don't want you to throw your life away, like I've seen so many others do it while I've been working at the police station,"

"So you're looking out for my well-being. How sweet," I said sarcastically.

"Fine," he snapped, "I came to the party last night because Jake asked me to. He said to me 'I don't like that guy Suze is always hanging around, make sure she behaves', and I tried to, but I didn't want to cause problems between you and your Paul,"

My Paul? Oh holy capsicum Tuesday, he did NOT just say that. "Why?"

"Because you two seem so… natural around each other,"

I think I sense a disturbance in the force or something right now, because this is so not right. "Natural? No way,"

Jesse's eyes locked with mine. "Look, I want to be honest with you _querida_, but I don't think it's in my place to do it,"

Narrowing my eyes, I pointed a finger in his face. "You, you called me that word again. What is it?"

He smiled sheepishly, obviously ashamed that he had let it slip.

"And I don't care what you have to say. Seriously, nothing could make my life any worse than what it already,"

Sighing, he finally admitted, "I don't trust him around you Susannah. His intentions seem far from honourable," _and he barely even knew what happened_, "and then when you were drunk,"

Well, that snapped me out of my funk. "What? You were there?"

He looked surprised by my memory loss. "Yes _querida_, you seemed to be sick, and I saw Paul trying to take you upstairs,"

It was beginning to get clearer now. "The other… shadow I could see – it was you wasn't it?"

"Yes, I stopped him, I tried to take you outside, because it was clear you weren't feeling very well, and… I don't think your Paul likes other guys to touch you, if you get my meaning," he gestured to a purplish bruise just underside the jaw that I didn't notice when I was erm, looking at him.

"So I guess I hit him back a few times," The bruise on Paul's face – it had been from Jesse, I realised, "And by the time I had gotten up again, both Paul and you were gone. I didn't know where you had disappeared to, but I hoped maybe he'd taken the initiative and made sure you were okay himself. I don't know. Are you?"

_Far from it._

"Yeah. Everything's craculating," I bullshitted.

"You're lying again," he pointed out.

I didn't even bother trying to deny it. He was the only one who could tell anyway – as long as he didn't tell anyone. "Yeah, well, if anyone else figures out when I'm telling a lie, I'm going to realise you told them, and I'll do something drastic,"

"Drastic?" he smiled.

"Yeah drastic. Like, I might find out where you live and murder you in your bed," I said, trying to sound serious. This only seemed to make him laugh harder.

"With a knife. A really sharp knife,"

And still he laughed. I don't know what was so funny, and personally, I hate it. So I turned away.

"Sorry, it's just when you get all worked up you go all red and cute,"

Cute? CUTE? Well that's a laugh and a half. I whipped around, not caring if I looked just a little weird. "Cute? Will you please stop treating me like I'm your younger sister – I'm 17 you know,"

"Old enough to know better, young enough to not care," Jesse muttered, his laughter drying up faster than a creek bed in the middle of a drought.

"Did you say something?"

"No,"

"You lie," I said simply.

Jesse yawned, and sat up against the railing. "So you ever going to spill? Or are you going to keep drowning your sorrows?"

"I am not," I replied dejectedly.

He nodded, and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "What's that river in Egypt? Oh yes, De Nile,"

Geography freak.

"It's 8 in the morning, and you're drinking tequila. Are you nuts?"

I shook my head.

"Sooo," he stretched on, as if he was hoping I'd say something, "are you going to tell me why you're so upset?"

_This missy is out of order_, I thought. Remaining silent, my gaze focused on the entrancing movements of the water again. I was so out of it by that time, I just asked without thinking, "Have you ever done something you regret so much, but you don't know how much you regret it because you don't remember it?"

I watched Jesse raise an eyebrow. "That's deep. And yes, I have regretted things, but I've remembered them – perhaps because I wasn't totally smashed at the time, no?"

The wetness came back yet again. I think I'm going to start using a new perfume, because my eyes seem to be quite sensitive to something around here. Why? Why was he so understanding? Why did he seem to know what was happening?

And why did he seem to care when no one else did?

And the golden question: Why was he so freaking hot? _(A/N: Suze has her priorities in order, we can be happy for that)_

"Alcohol's my only friend now," I said, practically inaudible.

I didn't know if he had heard it until he stood up. And then he did something I don't think I could ever tell anyone about, ever, because it really meant something to me.

Oh yeah, and I really liked it too I guess.

Don't get yourselves worked up, he didn't kiss me. But he did hug me for a little while. The wetness had become more pronounced and was even flowing over my eyelids a little, but I ignored it. It was so… I could barely describe it, but I hadn't felt as secure since moving to Carmel as I did right then in Jesse's arms. But it was so wrong. I don't know why, but it was. I couldn't believe that just being hugged by a guy I had barely known more than a week made me feel so safe, and not as sad and alone. Like, in some weird way, everything would be okay in the end. I trusted that feeling like I've never trusted anything else before. Jesse was there for me – he was there like no one else has ever been. It felt nice to trust someone for once. Sure, deep down I knew something was going to happen – it always does – but I was too drunk on the feeling that someone could help me that I forgot about my worries and my sceptical nature. Everything might turn out alright.

But then again, how could it be okay? I'm with Paul. Paul, the guy who I lost my virginity to just last night (!). The guy who had been my boyfriend for nearly 6 months (!). The guy that puts up with me all the time (!). And you wanna know something? I could barely think about Paul at that moment. I think it might have been the fact I was trying to forget everything at that point. I don't think it was because I loved the feeling of his hard chest against my own. Oh no.

See? That's how far gone I am.

"_Querida_, just remember you will always have someone to talk to. You aren't as alone as you think," he murmured into my ear, and we broke apart.

Is it wrong to say that I was just a little reluctant? I'm such a bad bad girl. "Thanks," I whispered. "I should go home,"

Jesse pointed behind me. I turned around and saw his car parked on the side of the road. "I'll take you okay?"

I didn't object.

* * *

Blah talking. 

Blah thinking.

Yadiyadiyada.

That's exactly how my mind had been like for the whole day. Nothing but a total whirlwind of thoughts and memories. I had finally shaken the headache and sluggish feeling by getting some good TLC in a room that was actually warm. I never would have thought the canopy bed would be so inviting. I was also beginning to remember snatches of the party, but nothing halfway important. Although I tell you one thing – Pineapple Cruiser. There was a lot of it, and I made a resolution I would stay away from it.

Too bad it's my favourite, but I'd switch to watermelon.

My first flash had come whilst I was sitting on my window seat, letting the sea breeze ruffle my hair and give it that beachy curl I was after. I had been sitting there, letting my mind do the blah blah blah thing as usual, when it happened suddenly.

_I had slipped my feet into the warm water, when a cute boy from NoCal came swimming over, hazel eyes shining between strands of blonde hair. "Hey… Suze isn't it?"_

"_That's my name,"_

"_Jordan," he smiled, rubbing his hair out of his face. "Where's Jake?"_

It didn't give me anything really interesting, but it was something at least. I was starting to remember. Hopefully this wouldn't be the last.

There was a knock on my door, and Sleepy let himself in. "You okay?"

I was surprised. "Yeah, why?"

He shrugged, talking slowly like he usually did. "I dunno, I just heard some things that's all,"

"From Jesse," I cut to the chase, "I know you sent him – why? I can take care of myself"

Sleepy's confused look increased. "Jesse? Nah, man, I didn't send him to no party,"

Rolling my eyes, thinking he was being daft again, like usual, I got off the window seat.

"_Come here," I heard the voice tell me. I followed it obediently, not knowing what else to do. The hand that was holding my wrist vanished, and soon I felt lips upon my own. Man… they felt nice, whoever it was. I didn't want them to stop, so I reciprocated. They became more urgent, and I could feel my singlet top slip off. But I was too far into the kiss – I didn't care as long as those lips stayed on mine. It was intoxicating me, making me far more woozy than I originally had been._

"Suze? Suze? Dude, you in there?"

I shook my head and found myself face to face with my step-brother. I took a step backwards. "Sorry… I just…" rubbing my forehead, I continued, "never mind. So you're saying to me you don't remember sending Jesse to the party to make sure I behave?"

"No," Sleepy answered sullenly.

Smiling, I poked a finger in his face, feeling a little happy for the first time in… ever.

"Sl- I mean, Jake, people who tell porkies go to hell,"

Well, that comment didn't have the desired reaction, instead he screwed up his face. "I never said that. It's not a case of not remembering, I know I never did that. I haven't spoken to Jesse for a few days now," he seemed the surest that I've ever known him to be. "What, did he do something to you?"

"No!" I answered quickly, my mind reeling. Thoughts were flashing through my mind like a set of nightclub lights. Like a traffic jam inside my head. Like… I think you get the idea. "It's all good. I think I might go to sleep or something," I said hurriedly, wanting to get rid of him before I did something really bad. Like, I dunno, punched a wall. Or his face, even though he didn't deserve it.

"Yeah, you should," he agreed, "you look like shit,"

Wow. Thanks.

So Sleepy hadn't sent Jesse to the party… Jesse had lied to me. He wasn't understanding, he didn't understand me, or care about a word I'd said! He was just using me for his own plan, like I'd suspected.

He'd LIED!

For some reason completely, this fact hurt beyond belief. I mean, I should be used to it by now, guys lied to me all the time… but Jesse had seemed so, well, _decent_. I hadn't met anyone of those in quite a while. But then again, I hadn't known him that long. Probably just during those few minutes, I'd honestly believed that Jesse was different. That he'd just wanted to help, and had wanted to know if I was okay. I mean, I know this may sound like I was overreacting, but he'd lied about why he was at party, why shouldn't I suspect that everything else was a big heap of bullshit too? I guess this is just the payment you receive for putting my faith in someone you pretty much don't know. I'd seriously believed he had meant every word he'd said.

_And I'd believed them all_, I thought as I walked down the stairs towards the bar.

God, you're SO STUPID! Worse than stupid – you're absolutely WORTHLESS!

Jesse had actually made me consider what I'd seen in Paul. Seriously, I had actually wondered if Paul was really worth it, but now I realise the Paul is so much better to me than Jesse. Sure, Paul had never comforted me like that, but shit, he hadn't blatantly lied to my face and made me feel like I could trust him. Yeah, Paul was way better than Jesse.

Grabbing some bourbon, I was interrupted by Dopey, who was sitting at the table, cradling his head while trying to finish some homework.

"Drinking again? Aren't you like, still sick from last night?" He asked.

I shook my head, and shook the bottle. The liquid swishing around made me feel the slightest bit better. Walking past him, Dopey said, "Unstable girl. You need a good hump,"

Stopping, I could feel the pressure rising up to my head. But then I looked down at the bottle, and decided to ignore him. I was about to take a sip when I was hit with another flash.

_Turning around, I came face to face with Jesse. He smiled simply at me. "Susannah, I thought you would know better than to accept opened drinks from guys you have just met," _

_I grabbed the glass away from him and frowned. "Yeah, whatever. Paul here is my boyfriend," _

"_Really? Slater, right?" Jesse asked over my head with raised eyebrows._

"_Don't you have somewhere to be Rico?" Paul asked threateningly, looking angry._

My god. Paul… Paul had seen what Jesse really was. Paul knew what kind of person Jesse was – why had I believed Jesse? Jeez, I mean, I had known Paul longer.

He had tried to protect me from Jesse, and Jesse had probably upped and punched him, and my boyfriend had fought back. Paul had helped me get away from Jesse before anything else could happen in my drunken state. Woah… I was suddenly seeing Paul in a new light. He was so sweet, and protective… _(A/N: Oh, gag me)_

And that's why I'd done it. Somehow, that just made me feel the tiniest bit better. Sure, I still felt hollow, but now I know why I'd done it. Paul had been the One after all, I'd just been too drunk to see it.

Almost as if just thinking this had summoned him, the phone went off. Walking back into the kitchen and picking it up, I sighed when I heard Paul's voice on the other line. "Suze?"

"Hey Paul," I answered happily.

"Man, you sound… are you okay? Did you get home okay? I tried to find you-"

"I'm great," I interrupted. "Listen, I want to talk to you – meet me here?"

Paul sounded relieved. "You're not mad? You left so quickly…"

"No, I'm not mad, I was just surprised, that's all. So you coming or not?" I picked the label off the glass with one of my nails.

"I'll meet you in 10,"

He got here in five. Climbing up the tree, he came through the window again. I came up to him and kissed him sweetly. "Hey," I breathed, setting aside the half empty bottle onto my dresser.

To say he was surprised by this gesture would have been like, saying the people of Africa are just a tiny bit peckish. But it seemed to make him happy, if that counted as anything.

I then asked him what I'd been dying to since I'd found out the truth about Jesse – Paul's count of events during the time I couldn't remember.

"Well, I'd noticed you were sitting on the couch and you looked pretty sick, so I was trying to get you upstairs to the bathroom so you could take something to make you feel better, when Rico came by and said he wanted to take you instead," he squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes reassuringly, "But I don't trust him. So I wouldn't let him. And then he threw a punch at me, and tried to grab you while I was still down. But then I got him back, and managed to get you up the stairs away from him,"

I smiled and hugged him. "Thanks Paul… I-I'm sorry I got up you this morning. I understand everything now, and none of it was your fault. I just couldn't remember anything – I still don't – and I guess I freaked,"

Grinning, he lowered his mouth onto mine and held my waist protectively. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, before he moved down my jaw to my neck and collarbone. My head began feeling dizzy, but I couldn't tell whether it was from the bourbon or Paul's lips. But then I decided it didn't matter.

"Paul?" I asked breathlessly, trying to string a sentence through the rapid emotions that were surging through me as I lay down on my bed, "Um, you want to try it again?"

If the way he went from my collarbone to my abdomen was the only answer he was giving, I guessed it meant 'Yes,'

_Thanks to Sheridan (aka Wacca-macca, The Don or Fred) who contributed her favourite quote of the week – this sucks carrots. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you lol._

**A/N: You like? Don't like? Please tell me. Believe me when I say it was absolute agony to write this chapter, but I guess I needed to, coz there's this nasty thing in every story called a plot, and I gotta stick to it. Unfortunately.**

**So who do you believe? Jesse or Paul? Tell me that too.**

**As for Jesse stakes… I'm pretty sure (hell, VERY sure) this will be J/S eventually, but I think it's going to be P/S for just a widdle bit longer. So for Paul fans… rejoice. For Jesse fans… when it happens, you'll like it. **

**La fonda:** Erm… woah, you sorta remind me of me! Where did all that come from? Lol, so obviously you're a P/S supporter… and a Jesse becoming a drunk supporter :laughing: ookay. I don't think I'll do that, but it was an original and funny idea, I'll give you that!

**Mrs. Nikki Slater:** Can I ask a question? If you hate Paul why is your last name Slater? Just wondering, coz it's a cool name and all and you seem to really hate him :)

**Golden Angel71:** I know Suze is a little O/C lately, but I hope people understand that things are different – when she arrived in Carmel, her relationship with her mother was terrible, she hates her new family, and Jesse wasn't around to keep her in line as a ghost. And then she met Paul, who is obviously a dickhead, and she's gotten caught up in the scene without even realising it. I promise the story won't end with her being a druggie or something, but at the moment her drinking is just a way to express her pain in a monotonous life she thinks she can't escape.

**desesperado en amor: **You want me to update faster? Okay, I'll try my best, but because my school year is coming closer and closer to finishing it's getting hard to juggle this story with a never-ending pile of assignments and exams. But I'll try harder for you I promise! For your questions, they were answered in this chapter – but whichever version you believe for now is totally up to you. PS – ur new story rocks! I love it!

**Flowerlovespower:** Actually that was a pretty good idea – I sorta was going to do it, just to deepen the rift between Jesse and Paul, but I thought about an alternate thing instead, as you probably know already. Good idea though!

**.Art.Of.Dying.: **Oh my god, I love your reviews so much! They make me laugh… really hard. So hard people usually ask if I'm laying a few eggs, but that's a different story right there. Thanks for quoting the things you liked out of the chapter, I've never had someone who does that before and it makes the review just so awesome… and a good chance to laugh at the comments you made about it. Just one thing I'd like to point out, because I have no idea what your freak out of Jesse being 'left' was, but just in case it's what I think it is… **HE IS NOT GAY!** I am so not that mean… and I love the Spanish guy. I hate Paul. I might make _him_ gay… just kidding. Thanks for your reviews, they're the best!

**Melissa Trent: **I wasn't pointing in the direction of rape because it wasn't really rape technically; She was so drunk she couldn't think properly, she just let him do it and didn't object. So Paul pretty much hasn't done anything wrong… except for be a total asswipe.

**Thanks fygidtyi, channie, DealNonDraco, Kitty-Skittelz, bbblfl,** **giggles,** **DemonicBallerina, xoMirollie246 and everyone else who reviewed!**


	7. Lifestyles Of The Rich And Bitchy

Chapter 7 – Lifestyles Of The Rich And Bitchy

It had been three weeks since I slept with Paul for the first time. To outsiders, it seems like I've become a shell of my former Brooklyn self. But I guess I didn't know. I can't remember what I used to be like. I've made so many mistakes that it should go down in history. I've realised now that I overreacted with the whole Jesse/Paul thing. I was so confused then, and I guess I still am. But it's too late now. Me, Suze Simon, made my choice, and I have to live with it.

I chose Paul.

And the fact I haven't seen Jesse ever since made it so much easier to handle. Jesse had always made me question Paul; made me wonder if he was good enough. But not seeing him and thinking these things just made it easier to go back to the way I was before the night I was bought in for speeding. Go back to accepting things for the way they are, forgetting the momentary fleeting hope I'd acquired, and just return to the monotonous life again.

But there was a twist. I'd realised that if I drank, the pain would all go away. It became my escape when it all began to get too much. I knew I was being a coward deep down, but I was so sick of the façade that I constantly put up, so when I drank, it was like a vacation for me.

A vacation. In other words, my stupid explanation for my almost daily smash sessions.

And you wanna know what I think is funny? It's the fact that out of everyone, the only person who'd actually noticed the amount of alcohol I was consuming was Doc. But what did he know? He launched into another one of his massive lectures about alcohol abuse, and it's side affects yadayadayada.

I swear, hanging around him has gotta be some sort of freaking health violation.

He just thinks way too much! Usually (especially with me) there is really only one message going through my brain at a time. It's easier that way. But with people like Doc… it's like New York City at peak hour.

"Whoa, slow down man. You'll hurt yourself thinking too much," I put my hands up and backed away. He gave me a stubborn look.

"I'm just saying Suze, it's not healthy,"

"Listening to _you_ isn't healthy," I shot back.

Looking hurt, a blush crept up to the tips of his ears and he hurriedly excused himself, his eyes straying to my clenched fist more than once. Something prickled my heart, but I pushed it aside. I did not need guilt to add to my pile of emotions. If I have anymore I'll probably go nuclear. Taking one last look in the mirror, I opened up my bay window and breathed in the smell of the night Californian air. I jumped with catlike grace from the porch roof onto the grass littered with pinecones – an easy feat considering I was in my sneakers and jeans – and ran down the driveway to the road.

Why? Because I knew I'd never get away with taking the car. I mean, I know Days Of Our Lives is like, totally engrossing stuff, but I doubt even the corny turn-around-and-look-over-your-shoulder-whilst-trying-to-stay-serious opening credits will really do my stealth justice. They'd definitely hear the roar of the engine, before takeoff, and prevent me from leaving like a horse in a cowboy's lasso. My punishment had been lifted a few days earlier, therefore I wasn't grounded, but I wasn't going to take the risk and ask. They'd probably say no.

No, scrap that. I KNOW they'll say no.

I finally met Kelly, Debbie, Roxy and Jules at the coffee clutch and ordered some iced chocolate. I wasn't into having the bad breath. The minute I'd slid into the place saved for me in the booth, it was clear that it wasn't a good night for Debbie or Kelly.

I mean, it's kind of obvious. Kelly can't exactly mask her emotions that well. Hey, don't look at me like that – she's so daft she can't count to 20 unless she's barefoot. She'd get to 10 and break out in a sweat. And Debbie… well, lets just say she was pretty edgy. Kells had just been explaining how she lost the ring her father had given her for last Christmas while walking on the footpath.

"So like, it accidentally, like, slipped off, and then, like, fell into this little, like, crack?" she traced her finger along the wooden bench to explain herself a little clearer.

Debbie, who had been going one shade darker every time Kelly uttered the word _like_, suddenly exploded. "It isn't LIKE!"

We all blinked at her, but she was too worked up to notice. I'm not kidding, I saw steam pouring out of her ears like a train. Toot.

"It IS! And it isn't crack, question mark. It either was OR IT WASN'T!"

We all blinked at her again. "Uh, Deb… switch to de-caf man," I muttered.

She turned to me, her eyes wide with anger. "What did you say?"

Roxy slammed the glass she had been drinking from on the table. "Jeez, Deb, like, calm down! Trouble in paradise with Brad or something?"

All the anger disappeared from Debbie's face, and she looked as if she was going to burst out crying.

"Look, lets just forget it, okay?" Jules offered, and she swung the conversation around to her and Damien, since they'd just been out on their first 'official' date. Kelly looked like she had been slapped several times, but quickly got over it.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "So what is everyone up to on the winter holidays?"

Debbie murmured half-sarcastically, "Seeing how many times I can get hit by a train before I die,"

Jules snorted into her cappuccino, and Roxy, ever the technicalist, asked, "Wouldn't that be once?"

Rolling her eyes, Kelly said nastily, "No, she's so stupid she'd stand on the wrong side of the tracks,"

Looking as if she had just been cut like coon cheese, Debbie got up and said quickly, "I have to go and study for a test otherwise Mr Walden will kill me. Later guys,"

I frowned. "Test? I didn't know we had a test,"

"We don't," Jules said.

"Wonder what's up with her anyway – like, she's been acting a little strange since a few weeks before Paul's party, but after that she got so much worse," Roxy wondered.

Shrugging, I finished my drink. "It's probably just her and Brad having a fight again. I'm sure it's not big D,"

Anyone with at least one functioning brain cell would have seen it was something much more than that, but not me. Oh no.

Turned out there was a test – but it was a pop quiz. So yeah, at least someone (Debbie) got high marks, but I was suffering from a 100 percent brain freeze at that present point. I couldn't remember a thing. I didn't care though, it was just History. You have to wonder, if all of those people before us knew that we'd actually have to study their history in the future, do you really think that they'd gone around making so much of it?

I mean, who cares about the fall of the Berlin Wall? Fidel Castro? Opium in China? WHO CARES?

Anyway, after we were let out, I made my way over to my locker and spun the dial. I was just swapping my history notebook for my algebra one when a pair of hands covered my eyes. "Guess who?"

"Hmm," I mused, pretending to think it over, "I don't know, give me a hint,"

"Someone who thinks you're beautiful," his voice whispered in my ear.

I felt his hands with my own, and played along, "I got nothing… I have no idea,"

Laughing, Paul uncovered my eyes and brought my face around so he could kiss me. "Hey babe," he smiled.

"Mr Slater!" Mother Ernestine shouted shrilly, "30 centimetres," and she waggled a ruler in between our bodies and pushed them apart until they were at satisfactory width. I rolled my eyes as she toddled off; casting disgusted looks over her shoulder as she dodged around the other students milling down the hallway.

_(A/N: Soz, just had to do that – our teachers at our school have this stupid rule about 30 centimetre space between all pupils, especially those of the male/female pairings)_

Just to spite her, Paul leaned me up against the lockers and kissed me again. Our bodies were practically fused together, when Dopey whistled behind us. "Get a room!"

I smiled sheepishly at my friends who had been waiting with him for me to finish. "I'll see you at lunch?"

Paul nodded. "My place, this afternoon?"

My stomach overturned at the thought, but I ignored it. "Sure,"

Kissing me quickly, he went to his next class, while I mentally made a note to grab something before it came down to that. It sounds sad, but the previous times I had had sex with Paul (yes, we're talking plural here) I'd always been fairly wasted. I didn't care about that anymore, so as long as I was numb, I could give in and not feel anything at all. Any anger at myself or guilt was washed away.

School dragged by almost at snails pace, every second seeming to stretch on longer and longer. Twice I was asked easy questions I couldn't answer because I wasn't paying attention, and my classmates would laugh at my supposed jokey behaviour. Yeah, it's like idiot special day – two for a dollar.

5 seconds before the end of the last class, an announcement came over the loudspeakers.

"Will Susannah Simon please report to the principals office?"

An eruption of laughter echoed throughout my English class, alongside the 'ooohs' and 'uh-ohs'. Grabbing my things, I walked briskly to Father Dom's office, wondering what the heck he wanted with me 3:00 on a Thursday afternoon. But when I got to the secretary, she smiled all lopsidedly and told me that Father Dom hadn't requested me at all.

"Are you positive he didn't?"

The blonde shook her head between the coats of lipstick that she was applying. "Definitely sure. Have a good afternoon now," and she practically threw me out the door. I guess that was to be expected – she probably wanted to get home.

Yeah. It's not like I didn't want to either. School is the bomb, why would you ever want to leave?

Ahh. Perfectly good comedy, and no one around to hear it. Or so I thought.

By the time I had gotten onto the road again, it was deserted. It usually is once the trickle of school students has stopped. I kept getting these little tickles of cold air playing on the back of my neck which made my hair stand up attractively (note: the sarcasm), but I ignored it.

It's my usual prerogative. Or my sincere stupidity factor. Whichever.

Turns out, I figured who had called me to the office, and who was having fun giving me goose bumps.

Mina and her bosom buddies.

Okay, sounds a little harsh, but I had smelt _nada_ of their hairspray for the last 3 weeks. I'd just presumed they'd packed up and trotted away on their cheerleader-like pins.

Yep. Wrong again. Since when has that ever changed?

"You," Mina said, sounding particularly deep for her usually chipper voice. I was about to make a crack about her being a Miriam in disguise _(A/N: Man who looks like a woman)_ when her 6 dead chicky babes appeared behind her. They were all similar in shape and looks – all tall, pretty, but a combination of all types of hair colours.

So instead I put on my most charming smile. "Hi Mina, how's limbo treating you?"

"We've given you three weeks to do something, and you haven't done one bit," a brunette said coolly from behind Mina.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes, oh," said another, "one of our murderers is loose again on the streets, and you haven't done anything to stop it,"

Then the different questions came, like a tidal wave.

"How come you didn't know this?"

"Supposed to be a mediator, ha!"

"This chick knows jack shit"

"I'm sooo sick of being a ghost, I just wanna be alive again!"

"ENOUGH!" I roared, causing them all to squeak. "Bloody hell people, you sound like whiny teacher's pets,"

The girl who had spoken before the torrent of questions flipped her long brown hair out of her face and over her shoulder. "I am sick," she said so quietly you had to strain your ears to listen, "of being dead, while I watch the same person who murdered me and these other girls-" she gestured to the others, "-go out and do it again and again. You're supposed to be a liaison between the living and the dead. You're supposed to help us, yet you have done nothing,"

"Yeah!" a redhead who was considerably a lot dumber than the tallest brunette piped up, "I think you need a foot up your cute mediator butt!"

And with that they began closing in. Before I got my fists messy, I decided to make one thing clear. "So you pretended to call me up to the office. Um, why?"

"So we could ensure you'd be alone on the way back," one of them answered. Another giggled.

"Ooh, that's so x-files Lucy!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Whatever," And then Butt-kissers incorporated began walking menacingly forward again, backing me up against the cliff edge.

"Hey!" I said hurriedly, before they forced me over the edge, "instead of violence why don't we slip on sandals, hold hands and 'Kumbia the lord', huh?" But they kept moving forward. I think they were too far gone to even answer. I was just a little bit nervous. Because in case you haven't noticed, in real life 7 on 1 is unfair. When they're ghosts? Um… lets just say I'll probably be one of them faster than you can say 'Holler'. So I took matters into my own hands.

"Take one more step," I said angrily to the nearest petite blonde, "and I'll shove your head so far up your ass not even laxatives will get it out, yo,"

She yelled in frustration and launched herself at me.

And so did the other 6.

I ducked and threw myself underneath them to get away from the edge, rolling in the dirt. Great. Just as I was thinking pretty graphical stuff about how to actually put their heads so far up their butt that they're breathing fresh air again, hands clawed at my leg and pulled me up off the ground.

I was upside down.

Where, I wondered, have I done this before? Oh yeah, when I was fighting Greg and Trista. How awesome _that_ turned out. But I had gotten some comic relief from it too, by dacking the chick.

But, I realised, that might not be so wise this time. So I trousered that idea as soon as it surfaced – I wasn't interested in prematurely becoming bangas and mash.

So instead, I tried to make conversation amongst the blood rushing to my head and knowing I probably looked _mighty_ fine. "Hmm, so you're trying to say to me that one of the people who raped you, tortured you," they flinched with every word as if I'd slapped them, "and then finally killed you is back walking around, breathing in the smells of McDonald's quite freely, but you're more interested in killing _moi_ because I had no idea?"

"Stupid mediators – think they know everything, but when they get down to the nitty gritty they claim they had _no idea_…" Lucy imitated me shrilly, as she poked me in the stomach with one of her manicured nails.

The grip on my legs tightened, and they began walking towards the fence slowly, as if to remind me every step that I was going to be plummeting to my death on the other side shortly. Sweet. And the thing I want for Christmas is an ipod, Santa. Ignoring the pounding in my head, I looked up into the face of the wise brunette who was holding me. "Any last words?" she sneered, her lips curling.

I blinked, then put a finger to my lips and tapped, trying to think. "Yes," I said happily. And with a sneakered foot I ploughed my legs into her face and she dropped to the floor. She wailed, clutching her nose with red polished fingers. This all happened so quickly, the others barely had time to react, before I was shouting my favourite line.

"Remember to press eject!" and then I slammed my right foot in the seat of her pants and launched her over the side of the cliff. "Now," I said quite calmly, raking some twigs out of my once-straight hair, "who's next?"

Mina looked defiant. "You can't win, mediator,"

I nodded. "I know," I said, and threw a punch at her head.

She dodged it easily. "So why are you still fighting?"

"Good question," a familiar voice rang out. I turned around and saw Paul standing there outside his car looking angry. He walked forward, sending furious looks at the ghosts, before grabbing me around the waist protectively. "What are you doing to my girl here?"

I turned to look at my femme friends, and was grossed out to see them all swooning quite visibly. If we were a Japanese anime right now, they'd have hearts in their eyes.

Um. Ew? He's _my_ boyfriend.

Its either Paul didn't notice the genuine affect he was having on the girls (very unlikely) or he just chose not to acknowledge it (definitely). In any case, he told them where to go.

And you wanna know what sucks? Is that they actually listened to him and dematerialised.

"Paul!" I started whining, "You ruined all the fun!"

He rolled his eyes in response. "What were you doing, taking on 6 ghosts? Are you a suicide artist or something?"

I shook my head. "No, they're convinced their killer is back on the streets, yet I've heard nothing. Surely something like this would be on the news?"

Paul shrugged. "They're probably lying. Ghosts lie all the time,"

"But-"

"Come on babe," he cut me off, "lets get you safe," Safe. Right.

I took him up on it again while we were lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. The alcohol had finally worn off, and I had taken up a staring contest with the whiteness of the roof. My head was resting on his chest and his fingers were stroking my hair.

"Paul…" I mumbled, my head rising and falling in time with his breathing.

"Yeah?" he asked half-awake.

I cleared my throat a little and lifted my head to look him in the face. "What if those girls were telling the truth?"

The hand that was in my hair pushed my head towards his. He kissed me and said, "And how would they know? They just want you to go after them in jail, and probably get yourself killed. Not going to happen, not on my watch,"

I shrugged, and settled my head comfortably on his chest again. Oh, stop looking at me like that, he has a nice chest! Why not take up the opportunity when it arises, I ask?

Yeah, thought so.

* * *

When I arrived home, my mom gestured to the counter. "You've got mail Suze." Mail? I thought this was quite weird. I mean, the people I receive mail from are: Gina. Yeah. That's it.

I took it anyway. It was probably a letter bomb from the pansy club (Mina and co), I mused as I kicked the door shut and ripped it open. Well – no bomb, you can breathe a sigh of relief there. No, instead there was a folded up piece of paper and a tissue. Uh…huh.

I opened the slip of paper and felt my heart skip a couple of beats.

_This is the truth behind what you are – wear this and remember you aren't alone_

What the f? The truth behind what I was? Not alone? I felt the blood freeze in my veins. No… no one could have figured out I was a mediator, unless they were one too. And the people I know that are… they wouldn't get kicks out of this.

But it's impossible… no one could have figured it out. People just don't guess these type of things! I turned over the envelope, and studied the address. It was typed – typical. Obviously whoever sent this didn't want me figuring out who they are. So I decided to see what the tissue was all about.

Unless this was a _special_ tissue. Like 4 ply, Kleenex variety. Oooh! Someone call in the news crews, we film at 8!

I opened it up, and gazed at the necklace inside. It was a silver circular pendant on your typical silver chain, but what was on it sorta caught my gaze more. I mean, yeah, silver is pretty and all, but I have no idea what a picture of an Egyptian person and the letter S on the pendant had to do with anything.

Maybe someone had bought me a personalised necklace, being S and everything, but somehow I doubted that. I doubted that heaps. Shrugging, I put it on.

Hey – it _is_ mine after all. And it looks sorta cool, in the whole religious way. Suddenly I felt the familiar tingle you acquire when a ghost materialises. I turned around to see my dad standing there eyeing the necklace with a soft smile on his face.

"What?" I demanded.

Tearing his eyes away from my neck, he smiled even wider. "You did it! You finally figured it out,"

"Huh?" I asked dumbly.

The smile faltered a little bit. "The person you should trust – they gave you that right?"

"Huh?" I repeated. I was so officially lost it's not funny.

"The person I told you that you should trust, they gave you that necklace,"

"Oh," I fingered the silver chain, and smiled sheepishly. "I uh, sorta don't know who sent this to me. They didn't say,"

Now the smile completely disappeared. "What?"

Wow. For a ghost he didn't know all that much. Except of course for cryptic warnings. We _have_ to have those. "Unless it's from Paul…" I mused lightly, "Is that the person Dad? Did Paul send this?"

Sadly, he shook his head. "No darling I just… never mind,"

I stepped forward. "Come on Dad, just tell me who it is."

"I thought you'd figured it out, but obviously not, I should go," he replied hastily.

"No, Dad please," But I found myself talking to air. He had disappeared. Again. So Paul wasn't the one who sent it then. I didn't think he did. But what was all that about the person who sent this is the person I can trust? I trust Paul… I do.

Sort of.

Not really.

Ok, fine. I don't trust him that much at all. So sue me. I'm so dumb. I'm sure my profile is on the first page in the accompaniment of the bible: Earth, and our freaks of nature.

I trudged back down stairs to the lounge room, put a DVD in its player and turned on the TV. I was assaulted with the local news station's nightly news, before it switched to the beginning of the movie, where you have the cute little lady standing on her pedestal. But something made me stop it and switch the channels – it was in big block writing underneath the guy I recognised as Guy #2 who had me in a head-lock about a month ago. The newsreader had on their 'grave-were-in-a-jumbo-loada-shit' look they usually employ when talking about stuff like this, but I hadn't seen them look so solemn since the terror attacks first started in 01. And I guess a major serial killer on the streets again will sorta do that do the system, ya know? Especially if there had already been one kidnapping of a young female around 13 (I bet ya she'll turn up in less than a week). I mean, this stuff is way closer to home. She was urging the viewers through her perfect blonde bob (no flyaways, no frizz) not to panic, and the police already have quite a few leads.

Another good thing about having a reporter for a mother is you can always tell when they're totally bullshitting through their teeth.

So. Mina and her fellow murdered chickies already knew this. How in the world did they manage to know before everyone else? I know that they're ghosts and all, but seriously, they don't hear things on the ghost grapevine any quicker than it takes for Angela Whitmore to spread the latest rumour in school. Maybe they spied on them in jail or…

Ew. I won't venture no further.

I was pretty much pondering this throughout the whole movie – Day After Tomorrow if you're interested – but I just couldn't seem to tune into the tornados and tidal waves crushing the place I knew so well, the place I had grown up (New York City). I knew what I had to do, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

It didn't make my heart sing with joy either, but I guess that's the perks of being a mediator. You have to help the spirits when their boots are parked up your rear end the most. I had to summon them.

All together now… shiver.

Seriously, my life must be one huge comedy show for the all-round great guy eh?

Finally, the movie finished on a light-hearted tone, but it didn't make the situation any less wedgies for words. I mean, I knew I was probably going to get several broken bones or something before the day was over, if you get my drift.

So preparing myself for the ultimate in painful outcomes, I went up to my room, securely locked the door and lit a few candles. Oh, don't go getting all ahead of yourself Watson, I'm not doing an ala. Alyssa Milano and Rose McGowan from Charmed and 'summon' the spirits in a circle and all that jazz. Nah, I'm going to do it the boring Suze Simon way – through the mind.

But I prefer the _soothing_ accents of Rosemary and Jasmine underneath it all.

And just to also highlight the mood I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and sat on it, doing what those people do on those Danoz-Direct Ads. You know, the way they tell you to sit when meditating, so you can release all of your karmic energy and shit? Yeah, well they also fail to mention that when sitting with your feet turned up resting solely on the padding of down under the only thing you're concentrating on is how much it _hurts_. Seriously.

So I was just sitting there, trying to meditate. Oh, and yeah, summon some ghost biatches too. I do it everyday.

They came almost instantly. I didn't think they would come so quickly, without much of a strain, but they did.

Don't get the wrong idea. A strain would have been fun.

Mina arrived first, her eyes darting around my room as the others appeared. After a thorough search, she raised her eyebrows. "Is Paul here?"

So I answered her all sarcastically from my position on the towel. "Yeah, right. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I saw one of the guys had escaped on the news,"

The brunette I had launched beyond window (or cliff) breaks shot me a snooty look. "Man, believe the newsreader but not us why don't you,"

"I don't think holding me upside down will telepathically send me the message you know," I answered her pleasantly.

The redhead rolled her eyes. You could tell she was probably the one with an IQ that matched Dopey's, by the way she spoke. "We, like told you okay! And you like, didn't, like, listen to us. Like, what were we supposed to do?"

I can understand why Debbie blew up the other night. The constant _like_ just ebbs at your brain, like someone who keeps poking you, but you can't do anything to stop them. Like.

"Whatever," I snapped, loosing almost all the patience I had to begin with. Which wasn't much mind you. "Just tell me what the heck you want me to do – WITHOUT FREAKING KILLING ME – so you can move on. Capishe?"

The only other chick who's name I knew – Lucy – stepped forward. "We want you to make sure he's brought to justice. The REAL way,"

I looked at her blankly. "Dude, there's nothing worse than a male prison. You gotta make sure you don't drop the soap, ya know?"

Brunette bitch snapped, "The _real_ way you moron. Not that way. We want him dead. And the other guys who's still in there too. We want to destroy them for what they did to us,"

"Especially me," a quiet voice I'd never heard before stated at the back. The others parted, and there stood an upset little girl probably no older than Doc, with jet-black hair and brown eyes. They hadn't given the girl who had been kidnapped a name yet, but I could just tell that she was the latest victim.

Sure, I have sympathy for her, but secretly I was furious. I just wish that dude could stop killing for like, 5 seconds so I can mediate the bunch I've already got! "I'm sorry, okay?" I tried to sound genuine, "Look, I can't kill anyone. And I can't let you kill anyone either. That's not the way it works. Death's too good for a guy like that,"

Mina looked like she'd been punched. "You mean death is too easy! What are you so scared of anyway? If we kill him it's not like it can be traced back to us. We're DEAD!"

At the last word, the little girl gave a sob.

"No. Death is not too easy. I'm talking about AFTER death you idiots! Often serial killers have an incessant will to live. You kill him and I'm 100 percent sure he'll come back. And I have absolutely no interest mediating a serial killer. Especially since we've met before."

Well, that shut her up. For about 0.01 seconds anyway. She puffed out her chest. "So? We'll still be around,"

I shook my head, something which isn't exactly wise when you have a particularly pissed off ghost standing about 6 feet away. "No. You would have moved on. Duh."

A silent agreement must have gone through them all, because all of them except the little girl started walking towards me again, like they usually do when they know blood will be spilt. Well, my blood, since ghosts don't have any. Yeah. At least, that's what they were doing, until Lucy gave a gasp. "Mina! Look – at her neck!"

I instinctively put my hand up to my neck, where the necklace lay. Mina looked at it, stepped backwards and whispered to the tallest brunette. She nodded, and said, "Don't, you guys,"

"But Dana, this will be fun!" The redhead said whinily.

"No Amy, not now," Dana snapped in response. "Not ever… she'll do something,"

I looked at them confusedly. "What? What are you talking about? Does this mean I won't be nursing any broken ribs or possibly a neck tonight? Is this good?" I started rambling.

They had all seemed to decide that fighting me was not a good idea. I have no idea why, but I guessed it was because they musta realised I'd swipe them on the floor like fly guts in 2 seconds flat. That's me.

Well, all of them must have except Amy. Note: not smart obviously. "I don't care," she said simply, and practically flew at me, putting her hands around my neck. Dana and Mina held the others back, saying "It's not worth it you guys,"

I gave Amy a palm strike to the jaw and she screamed in fury, clawing at my neck, trying to cut off my oxygen supply. With a quick knee to the stomach, I sent her flying backwards. I felt the necklace being pulled against my neck hard, and then it went – Amy had taken it.

"Gimme back my necklace girl," I snarled, running over to her. I have no idea how I'd become so attached to that necklace but… it's sounds corny – heck, I sound like the cheese queen of America herself, Hilary Duff _(A/N:I don't have anything against her – she's cool, but some of her lines do sound a little cheesy)_ – but I'd sorta felt a connection with it.

Again, no idea why.

I grabbed her arm, hauled her up and slugged her in the cheekbone, before preparing to do it on the opposite side. Anything to get that necklace back.

Then suddenly the atmosphere changed. It was like my reality had warped. My room trickled away like water down a glass window and it was replaced by a dark corridor lined with doors. Fog carpeted the floor so thickly I couldn't see through it, and a cold night sky twinkled down at me from above. I looked in front of me and saw Amy, who was crying. I was still holding her arm, and I let it go quickly. Where in the hell were we? Was this some kind of joke? Did Amy do this as some sort of thing to get back at me, take me unawares? Did she dematerialise, taking me with her to some place that didn't seem real?

I was thinking all of this until I looked at her again. I took in her tear-streaked cheeks and realised she didn't know where she was either. Or more importantly, how she got there. It looked like she knew no more than I did. Unfortunately that realisation didn't hold any hope for either of us.

So I tuned all of my thinking into how to get out of there. It didn't feel right, where I was. It didn't feel real either. Something about my body made me think that. I felt light, like I wasn't even taking up any space. Like I wasn't even supposed to be in that space to begin with. Walking along the corridor away from the shivering, crying heap that was Amy, I observed the doors. I put my hand onto the handle, and then withdrew it quickly. You could call it intuition if you will, but something in my mind screamed very vocally "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR SUZE!" and in what turned out to be the smartest move of my life, I listened to it and backed away. The hallway looked like it would stretch on forever, like a maze with no beginning and end, so I decided to go back to home base. I was lolling along, trying to figure out how to get back when I felt something pressed into my hand. The necklace.

"Sorry," Amy sniffled, "I didn't mean to take it,"

I felt a rush of emotion I think was… sadness. She looked seriously sorry, even though she annoyed the pants off me royally. So I found myself saying, "That's okay," and focused putting it on. Well, actually with my super-fast reflexes, dropping it and trying to find it through the fog. My fingers finally danced on top of the silver chain and I grasped it quickly, trying not to loose it again. Standing up, I turned around and nearly dropped it again.

"AMY! DON'T!" but it was too late. She had opened up one of the doors in curiosity and vanished in a flash of blinding white light. And, just like a camera flash, when it disappeared in seconds, she was nowhere to be seen. Amy was gone.

Okay. Totally freaked out now.

Even though I didn't want to go near any of the doors again, I had to lean again the small part of wall between the two of them when my legs began to get sore. The corners of my eyes prickled again for no apparent reason as I sat there, cradling my knees and just hoping some help would come along. I don't think there has ever been a situation where I've felt so helpless in my life. And I tell you something, I don't like it one bit. I HATE depending on people. I just can't do it.

It was only after another 5 minutes I realised help wasn't coming. Nothing was around, except for swirling tendrils of fog. I started thinking about the things I never thought I'd think about. All the things I'd miss – because if I wasn't mistaken, I was a ghost. This revelation had come to me while I was sitting there, picking at my nails. My fingers were too shimmery to be human. They were way too… not there. It's so hard to explain, but I just _knew_. I wasn't alive anymore.

I wouldn't ever get to graduate (even though the chances of doing that were pretty much _nada_ anyway), I'd never get to do another kickboxing session, or listen to my favourite music again, or see my favourite TV shows or movies. I'd never see Paul, or breathe the fresh but sickening (and air-head inducing) Carmel air. And most of all… I'd never see my mother again. Or Andy, or my step-brothers. Okay, I'll miss Doc a little. And maybe Sleepy. But Dopey? I'll pass.

I know. I don't understand it either. You get stuck in a crazy hallway you can't find a way out of and all of a sudden you start missing the stuff you take for granted. Heck, I even missed Max at that point, even though he slobbers on my lap at dinnertime. It wasn't all bad, but. He was a pretty good watchdog at night, letting me slip back into bed at 4am in the morning without making a noise.

Then I started thinking back to that serial killer that was clocking up all the chicks I have to mediate. They'd stay floating around in limbo until Father Dom found them and convinced them to pass on. Speaking of which, were they still hanging around in my room? And also, what about my body? What had happened to that? Seriously, I hoped it wasn't lying there all spread-eagled near the candles and towel. I'd hate to be found dead like that by someone, not moving on the hardwood floor surrounded by nothing but pink…

Before my eyes, the doors trickled away. Well, not trickled, but it began growing colours. Pink, to be precise, and blue dots. Suddenly, I was back in my room again, staring at the ceiling. I was over near the window seat, the breeze from my open bay window playing across my face. I sat up quickly – everything was just how I left it, except for, oh yeah – killer, vomit-inducing migraine. I cradled my head and keeled over in pain.

"What's going on?" I heard someone say softly, but it was too loud for me. Too loud! Everything was amplified by at least a million, the tiniest creak of the floor sounding like a stampede.

"Suze, what did you do? What happened?" I looked up through my heavy lidded eyes and saw the girls standing there with a horrified look on their face.

Mina came forward and stood a little bit away from me, scared to get within a few feet of me. "Suze, what did you do?" she repeated.

And I gave her the most honest answer ever. "I have no fucking idea."

* * *

After that day, Mina and her groupies avoided me like the plague. They were scared of me for some reason, most probably the fact they thought I might do to them what I did to Amy. The problem with that is I had no idea how I did it in the first place. All I thought about was that Egyptian thing on the necklace and wallah! It was like I was in an alternate universe. But one thing was for sure – I was never going back there again. The silence was uneasy, unrestful and it scared the shit out of me.

Thankyou audience, you may go home now.

But I guess them keeping their distance wasn't such a bad thing. I was getting ready for another party at someone's house. Bonnie or Brigit Summerville's or something. I don't know. All Paul knew was that we were pretty much welcome, and there was free alcohol. I mean, the hosts were in college, so of course there'd be alcohol involved.

Get with the program you amateurs.

After I'd pulled on a pleated mini-skirt and black halter top, I straightened my hair and put on my face. Hearing Paul pull up, I grabbed my bag and tore out of there quickly before Mom and Andy had second thoughts. All I told them was that Debbie was throwing a party, and I was going.

I was going to a party. Period. I didn't have to exactly specify who's.

Paul drove over to the other side of Carmel and pulled up in front of a house nearly everyone would go totally gaga for. It even rivalled Paul's which, until then at least, was the largest I'd ever seen. I guess that's what happens when everyone except your own family are multi-billionaires like Trump. Loud music was pounding, echoing off the walls and oozing into every main room the house had, and cups were being handed out left, right and centre.

"My type of party," Paul murmured as we walked through the hordes of teenagers who by the looks of it were already well underway in the alcohol consumption department.

We ran into Kelly and Debbie who had obviously patched up their screaming matches. I greeted them, receiving an over-enthusiastic (even for her) hello from Kelly, and a something you couldn't even describe as mumbled 'hey' from Debbie. Obviously she was still in that mood she'd inhabited lately.

I shrugged it off as usual and walked around in the arms of Paul. He, for some reason, had this whole protective-alpha-male take on things lately. He could have spared me the possessiveness, but I don't care about it anymore. I thought it was kinda funny that someone considered it their duty to protect me. I mean, I don't get into that much trouble do I?

Okay. You even mention the whole Mina-and-creepy-hallway-thing and I'll stab you with a spork. Sporks galore. Hurts doesn't it? Thought so.

I recognised a few faces from the college parties I'd attended practically every week, and I was pretty much on first name basis with most of them. Once you break through the fact that they're older, they are a pretty down to earth bunch. Either that or they were just too drunk to be anything but.

A few said hello as we were doing the rounds, until we stopped at the keg. Paul poured a cup for both of us and I frowned. Something was up, seriously, because Paul is never so… accommodating. Some of the time I believed he liked the idea of having a girlfriend more than he did liking them. I was used to being treated like an accessory at most times, because I was convinced that Paul was the best asshole you could find in this world, considering that's what all guys are. You may as well have one that treats you as if you don't exist most times than one that well… hits you and everything.

But it was just so… weird, to say at least. I mean, he's NEVER so interested in making sure everyone knew that I was his. Or at least, that's the message _I_ got.

Turned out to be something totally different.

When Paul finally let me go and do my thing, I wandered off towards the bar. Filling up my cup again, I felt two people standing behind me. I turned around and found myself approximately 2.4 inches away from Debbie's nose.

Like I said, _approximately_.

"What's up?" I asked.

She looked so close to tears I'm not kidding. Her eyes were wobbling, like a plastic freezer bag that was filled to the brim with water, and the slightest poke or nudge of any sort would send it exploding.

Kelly nudged Debbie, but no noise came out. Unless you count a strangled squeak a noise. Kells looked solemnly into my eyes and stated, "Debbie has something she needs to tell you, now," and darted a look around to make sure we weren't overheard.

I looked at her dubiously. "What is it? Come on, it can't be that bad,"

Debbie eyed me with one of her you-wanna-bet stares. I shrugged, and Kelly grabbed both our arms and dragged us outside onto the balcony that was overlooking the crashing waves down below.

Once we were out there safely and Kelly was positive there were no people eavesdropping, she said, "You should sit down, you know, just in case,"

I rolled my eyes. "Quit the conspiracy theory type cover and just spit it out!"

We looked at Debbie who seemed to be having a massive internal battle with herself. Her mouth kept opening and closing like a fish, as if she was about to say something everytime, but the sound wouldn't come out.

"Don't make me tell her myself," Kelly warned, "she'd want it to come from you,"

Making the squeaking noise again, Debbie finally blurted it out.

"Um, Suze, there's something I need to tell you, but I know you're not going to react very… well to it, if you get my meaning,"

I stared at her. "Come on Deb, I'm waiting,"

With one last look at her Kelly who was standing by her side looking as if she was going to do something if she didn't admit whatever she was trying to say, she continued.

"Uh, yeah, and well, um…" she struggled. Then, regaining her composure, she looked me straight in my eyes.

"Hey, Suze, there you are! I couldn't find you anywhere!" Paul said as he opened up the glass door and scooped me into his arms again. "Debbie, Kelly… having a girl chat are we?" He accused lightly, poking fun at them.

Kelly shrugged coolly. "Yeah, that's us. Suze, please, we really need to finish this,"

I looked up at Paul apologetically. "Sorry Paul, but Debbie was just trying to tell me something important. Want to wait inside for a few seconds? I'll find you,"

Paul didn't like that idea. "Nah, I don't think so. I want you to meet a few people,"

And then Debbie said with more force than she had in the last couple of weeks, "Paul. Inside. Now." I could so tell he didn't want to, but with a kiss on my lips he glared at them and walked inside again.

Shaking my head, I asked her, "Okay, so what was it?"

Debbie seemed to have lost her nerve, but a sharp nudging of Kelly's elbow made her continue. "Suze, I am so sorry, seriously, I am. I never… I never meant to hurt you in anyway, I just couldn't help it,"

Instantly, I jumped to conclusions. She had told that guy, the guy who was loose on the streets where I lived, and he was probably waiting underneath my bed to try and finish what he started. This was so not good.

I'm so dead.

"And I know you'll hate me forever, but I just hope one day you could find it in your heart to forgive me,"

So, so dead.

"But if you don't, I'll totally understand,"

Damn. Why am I still even alive at this point?

"And even though this is really hard for me to say, I – well, _we_, me and Kelly think you should know that Paul is cheating on you,"

So, so dea- WHAT?

My thoughts skidded to a halt, and I swear I could hear the screeching of tires and car horns blaring in my head. Paul? Cheating on me?

WHAT THE FUCK!

"And, Suze, I'm so sorry, but I… I was sorta the one he was cheating with," she finally mumbled, practically inaudibly.

WHAT THE FUCK TIMES TWO?

The screeching slowly diminished, and it was replaced by something else as the gravity of what she just told me sunk in. I must have been looking at her with a murderous expression, because Kelly stepped in between us.

"Suze, I know this isn't easy to handle, but please don't hurt her. At least she told you!"

Hurt her? Hurt Debbie? Oh why would I ever want to do that?

I felt my eye twitch.

"Handle? You think I'm capable of HANDLING this? In a nice, logical and mature matter? ARE YOU ON CRACK?" I shouted.

"Suze," Kelly said, sounding squeaky, as she backed away from me a little. "That's why we hadn't told you sooner… we were afraid you would react-"

I screamed and pegged the cup I was holding over the balcony.

"-really, really badly,"

"BADLY! THAT'S THE FUCKING REASON WHY YOU DIDN'T TELL ME EARLIER? BECAUSE I WOULDN'T TAKE IT WELL!" I hollered loudly, before picking up the deck chair I was standing beside and throwing it against one of the posts holding up the overhead shade cloth.

Without a backward glance at them, I opened up the glass door, nearly slamming it cleanly of its hinges. Believe me when I tell you that before in my life I had never, _never_ been so furious. It was fury I couldn't even begin to describe, but it was bubbling underneath my chest, building up and up like a volcano about to explode.

I only had one thought in my mind. Only one thing my movements were trained on. Find Paul.

And I found him, sitting, drinking beer and laughing with some college people I probably would have recognised had I not been so insane.

"Hey Suze," he smiled winningly until he saw my expression. I bet an ox probably looked more attractive than I did at that present point. But did I care about my looks? No, I only cared about getting even.

In the most possibly painful way, _danke_.

He stood up, and put his hands in front of him defensively. "Suze, what's wrong?"

I didn't answer him. Instead with a handy backhand trick I learned from Taekwondo I knocked the bottle out of his hands and slammed my right fist into his nose. I didn't feel the satisfying smash of nasal cartilage, but it was only a matter of time.

Paul went sprawling above the chair, knocking it over and sending the other people he was sitting with scattering away like ants in rain. I didn't even look at them as people began crowding around to witness the fight. Jebus, they were so simple minded!

Can't they see I'm only breaking up with Paul?

Well, breaking his nose, but hey, there's no rules.

He staggered up and I launched myself at him again, screaming words I don't even think I remember, I was so far gone. It had something to do with 'I trusted you', 'you used me you asshole', 'burn in hell', 'should die,' '!&' etc etc. You know, the usual.

Repeatedly I shoved my fist where it could connect with flesh. I can't believe he barely put up a fight, only trying to use his foot to launch me off him twice. I think most of it was just shock that I had gone so queen of the living dead in the space of 4 seconds. I continued until someone pulled me off him. Struggling against their grip in my efforts to get back at Paul who was bleeding profusely, I saw with great satisfaction, that there were a great variety of cuts all over his face. There was a collage of bruises, but the redness just made it look like I'd done something. He was helped up by another guy I couldn't see, all I was focused on was getting back at him again, inflicting some of the pain I knew would hit me very, very soon.

"What's up with you Suze? Are you high?" he had the nerve to gurgle out amongst the blood.

I sent him a death look and struggled some more. The person holding me had a fairly strong grip, I give them props for that. They kept saying something to me, but I wasn't listening. "Eat shit Paul," I growled, and with one final tug that took my restrainer by surprise, I grabbed a vodka bottle from the counter and booked it outta there.

**A/N: Dude… sorry bout the length… haha, longest chappy so far yes? Oh well, you guys, my lovely reviewers, it was all for you. Seriously, you guys rock mushrooms. I hope this chappy wasn't too bad… didn't like the last part that much, I hope she wasn't too OOC. As usual, please REVIEW if you want me to update faster! **

**Luv sarah xoxo**

**PS: The 'good' chappies are coming soon, beginning next chapter, for all you hard-core J/S fluff bunnies such as yours truly, if that's ANY incentive for you to review. **


	8. The Conspiracy Of An Idiotic Teenager

**Disclaimer: Do not own the songs ever used in this story. Like I'd ever be talented enough to make them up on my own.**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, they make me feel so special. :gives hugs all round: And to the numerous anonymous reviews I got, I'm glad you decided to review, they seriously brighten up my day. And make me update faster – and I make them longer too. Neways, this chapter is another very long one, with a bit of J/S fluff, and it has a Jesse POV (finally) in it. **

Chapter 8 – The Conspiracy Of An Idiotic Teenager

The bottle had been practically filled to the brim, but now it was nearing the edge of the label halfway down. I just couldn't stop. It was like the minute the burning sensation receded, it needed to be there again. Anything to stop the stem of pain that I knew would hit me if I stopped.

My thoughts had gone into overdrive, and I wasn't even going to begin to decipher them. It was just too much emotion, something I'd thought I'd completely gotten rid of before.

Something especially before all of _this_ happened.

With every swallow, the water surging in front of me and the feel of the cool sand beneath my toes became something far off, the sounds becoming compressed yet again as the alcohol took over. I tried to find my footing, but I couldn't seem to balance, my chest was too heavy…

With a thump I collapsed. The black hole was coming to capture me once more, and I released any hold I had left of consciousness. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, and the last thing I remember before conking out was being gently picked up, muffled words being muttered and then carried away.

I opened my eyes up the tiniest bit and light filtered into them like streams of whiteness set out to blind me. I closed them again almost immediately, the glare was so intense, and then squinted a little more until they adjusted from ongoing blackness to COLOUR, people.

I was in a bedroom I didn't recognise. And you know what? I'm sick of it up to here with waking up in strange places. Seriously. Up to _here_.

Sitting up and hit with yet another headache of the types I'm pretty much used to, I studied my surroundings. Unlike Paul's, this place had a very… warm feeling to it. Like the place I was, where I had woken up, was nice in a way I couldn't exactly describe.

I know. I'm still drunk, I bet.

And then, just on an impulse, I looked down. Whew. Still fully clothed. Alleluia.

Because last time I was in this situation? Yeah. Had just slept with a now total jackass of a cheating boyfriend whom I'd like nothing more than to bash the utter crap out of. Again.

What a toilet rush. And before 7 in the morning too. Nice.

Uh-huh. Paul had cheated on me. For who knows how long either? And with Debbie. DEBBIE! I mean, seriously. DEBBIE! DEBBIE? Like in that Eminem song 'Without Me', he says something like 'Fuck you Debbie!' or whatever. Okay. Freak out is over. I just feel stupid now. I felt like an empty shell, but there's still enough room to feel like a total tool.

Yes. Suze is a total idiot. Everyone stop and point. Now, point and laugh if it'll make you feel any better.

I finally turned to look out of the window that was shut, and saw that the fog was burning off. And then I looked at the figure sleeping in the beanbag in the corner, and let out a little scream of surprise. I sounded like I was on helium or something like that, because I sounded exactly like that chipmunk off that _Lonely_ song.

And the person who was slumped on there wasn't someone I'd expected. Namely, because I hadn't seen him in a little over 3 weeks. Jesse. Holy crap… what did I do? Where am I? Why, above all, is he here?

Silently slipping out what I presumed was his bed – in his room too… god, I know they're on holidays and shit for Christmas, but I slept in his _room_, peoples – I slowly hobbled over to him and made sure he was still sleeping. Holy cow – this was _not_ good. What happened to me last night, and caused me to wake up here this morning? And then I realised.

I'd fallen unconscious on the beach, and Jesse had picked me up and taken me to his house. How nice. Seriously, I wonder, did I put out to him too or something like the _bona fide_ slut I am? I mean, I _am_ in a skirt. Who knows what happened?

Locating my faithful JC's, I walked over to the door and quietly opened it, making sure Jesse didn't hear me and made my way down the stairs. I was hit with the massive lobby of his house. My god, is _everyone_ in this god forsaken place super rich? It's not fair.

When I walked outside I tried to orientate myself. I'd never been to his house before, so I had no idea where I was. And then I had a semi-flashback:

FLASHBACK 

"_Screw you," I said, punching him on the shoulder playfully._

_Jesse rolled his eyes. "If you must know, I live out this way and I was walking home," _

"_Then why are walking back? I thought you needed to go back as well," I demanded._

"Is it too much to ask to make sure you don't trip or something and knock yourself out again?" he stated, smiling sheepishly.

Okay. So he lived near the Big Sur cliff. No big. I'd find it, and then walk home. Unfortunately, walking home gives you a rather long time to think about what has happened. While wondering down a long dirt road that had led to his house – well, ranch, more like – I was mulling over how long he'd been unfaithful to me when I felt an abnormal sensation at the end of my nose, and a tingle that ran down my fingers to the tips. And then, to my horror, I felt droplets of water start oozing out of my eyes.

Oh my gah. I'm crying! Suze, get a freaking hold of yourself you baby!

Quickly getting rid of the wetness in case I ran into someone I knew (yeah, so it's 7 in the morning. Some people don't like sleeping in), I ran all the way home, before climbing up the tree. There I collapsed on my bed still fully clothed, and thought over everything from the night before.

I was so, so, so stupid to have thought that Paul was totally faithful to me. Just admit it to yourself Suze, how could you have been so sure? How could you have thought that Paul seriously respected you so much?

He didn't.

And if this was the case, which was likely, why did I care so much? Why was I crying – yes, guys, stop gaping at me – on my bed like I couldn't stop? I was weak I tell you. Totally weak.

I slipped on my pjs, and turned on my favourite CD at the moment – Evermore. Some Australian band, that, if you're in the right mood, can either cause you to mellow out or get depressed. Like Coldplay, but with more pianos.

_Leave the TV on, to fill the empty air_

_Loneliness sinks in, like ink into my skin_

And the song that was playing at the moment? _So_ does not help at all. Nope. It was called Come To Nothing, and the guy was singing about his pain and sorrow, about a girl who had cheated on him.

_I should have seen it all, the climb before the fall_

_I held to what we shared, but now it's disappeared_

My situation, but reversed, ya know? At least it's nice to know that other people have been screwed over in their lives. But did he, like myself, lose everything you cared about to that person? Suddenly, I got so much madder, if that's possible.

If you ever get in my situation yourself (please don't, by the way, it sucks) a good punching bag – if you can't be bothered dragging your ass down to the real one – is a pillow. Seriously. And the best part is, it never punches you back. So I proceeded to take it out on my poor pink frilly pillow, finally throwing it across the room in a screaming rage.

_By now, I guess you don't need me anymore_

_Alright, you know you don't fool me anymore_

_Tonight, you're burning another fire_

My chest was heaving, and I was just concentrating on trying to get enough oxygen to my brain when the girl with black hair from Mina's group materialised in front of it.

This, of course, was both a surprise and a pain the ass. Can't you let a girl grieve?

And plot to kill?

"What?" I asked rudely. She looked behind her at the pillow on the window seat and raised her eyebrows.

"Anger management?" she asked.

"Plotting deaths," I snapped.

Her brows went even higher, as she walked over and sat on my bed. She looked quite content there, as if nothing was bothering her.

Except for her untimely death. Can't forget that.

"Um, why aren't you heading north?" I asked her bluntly, staring at her.

She shrugged. "I dunno,"

I leaned closer. "Aren't you afraid I'll blast you to the great beyond like your buddy?"

_Now we've run out of time, out of luck, out of everything_

_Now you're gone, gone to find what you need, what I don't provide_

Again, the girl shrugged. "Doesn't hurt me. I'm not scared of anything. I'm dead."

Ah. Well, that puts a nice perspective on things doesn't it? "Oh,"

"Yeah," she continued, "I just wanted to ask you if you could do something for me?"

I rolled my eyes. As usual, Suze Simon is not allowed to be sad. She is not allowed to have time to find out how many ways she hates thy Paul Slater, evil ex-boyfriend. She is not allowed to discover how to best break Debbie's plastic nose. "Okay. What?"

"Go to my funeral," she asked, looking all puppy-dog eyeish, "please?"

I was taken aback. "That's it?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Please? I want at least one person to be there who knows the truth. Please? I won't ask you anything else,"

Okay. It can't be this easy. "That's it? You just want me to attend? No catches of any kind? Should I read the tiny print?"

"Nothing, I swear. Jeez. You mediators. You get all worked up over stuff that doesn't even matter,"

_And if it comes down, between win or lose_

_If it comes down, you know I'd have to choose_

"Oh yeah? And how many mediators do you know _amigo_?"

Her eyes widened at this. "You know him too? Oh, that's wonderful!"

I blinked. "What?"

She must have realised her error, because she said hastily, "Doesn't matter,"

"What's your name by the way?" I asked quickly, before she disappeared.

"Isabella Rickman," and she vanished.

_My life, my dreams, my love has come to nothing…_

_It's come to nothing _

_Come to nothing_

-§-

The funeral was depressing. I guess that's to be expected, considering she was murdered and all. Yeah. Try face down, floating in the river, half-eaten by the melting pot of animals that inhabit the water on for size. Uh-huh. That's the kind of state they finally found her body in a few days ago. Gross, I know. I mean, they couldn't even physically _identify_ her. They had to do a DNA test.

So typically, the funeral wasn't an open-casket one either. But Father Dom was there, going on and on about how great a person Isabella was, and how the fact she's been ripped from this world was not an unjust punishment from God, but all part of a bigger plan for her greatness. Whatever.

Not having a face is your destiny of greatness? I never knew that.

Needless to say, a lot of people turned up. There was so much black, it almost made me change my wardrobe around (which has quite a bit of black in it).

There was just so much sadness in the air it nearly broke me, but everytime it nearly got to much, I just brushed my hand reassuringly against my pocket which held my favourite drink of all time. I was wearing my black leather jacket, so you couldn't notice. Besides, no one could get on my case about it. For one thing, you actually have to have people at the funeral who know you, which I didn't. And second, it was January. I don't think it's ever NOT cold in January thankyou very much, even in California.

At least, I thought I didn't know anyone at the funeral. Not then, anyway.

After we all paid our respects, I walked over to the seat that was overlooking the water. There, I finally slipped out the cruiser and began chugging it down for all it was worth. Just to let everything go…

"Drinking again, are we?" I heard a soft voice whisper in my ear, as a tanned hand was placed over the glass and gently pulled it away. I didn't even have to think about who it was.

I just knew. You know, I seem to have inherited a psychic ability, as of late, and I can always tell who it is.

Because the Spanish accent _so_ was not a giveaway.

"What do you want?" I asked, not bothering to try and get it back. There was no point, I'd learnt, since this sort of thing only happened with amazing regularity. People taking my drink, like it was some major problem or something, I mean.

Like, its just VODKA. Jeez.

"You knew Isabella?" he asked.

I nodded my head a little. "Sort of. Not really. I mean, Do- David knew of her, so I decided to pay my respects,"

He seemed amused by this. "Oh really?" Jesse raised an eyebrow sardonically, "So if David knew her then why isn't he here too?"

Busted. But whatever. I shrugged. "Fine. Do I have to tell you why, seriously? I like going to funerals,"

"Either you're joking, or you seriously need a hobby," Jesse laughed softly.

I felt a cold finger poke my shoulder. Turning my head slightly, I saw Isabella's ghost. "Just tell him you dimwit, jeez!" she complained. I shot her a look that told her piss-off-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you. At least, I hope that's the message she got.

Until she had to do something so creepy, it made me want to get out of there. She walked over to Jesse's neck and blew on it, making him shiver. Great. So she was being a poltergeist. Ghosts like doing that. And then she brought her lips to his ear and whispered something I couldn't hear.

I sent her another look. _He can't hear you_, I tried to send telepathically, but she ignored me.

By the looks of it, Jesse had no idea that we had company. He just sat there, watching the occasional seagull fly past. And crab fly past.

Joking. Just said that to make sure you were listening properly. Which you were, right? I mean, this is my life story. What could be more interesting?

When Isabella didn't get the reaction she hoped for, she began concentrating on the bench we were both sitting on. Soon, we were both flying through the air, as the bench rose up and turned upside down, tossing us yonder.

After what felt like forever, I finally landed on something soft, which thankfully broke my fall. Same couldn't be said for Jesse, who was the thing I landed on. And we were sort of at close proximity, if you get my meaning. If the situation wasn't so weird, I might of realised how nice his chest felt beneath my own. Very slutty thought, I know, considering I haven't even been broken up with Paul for two days now, and all I am doing is falling on other guys.

Not technically on purpose, but does that matter?

"_Dios_, Susannah," he groaned in pain, trying to shift my elbow that had implanted itself in his stomach. Hard stomach, I must say. The guy obviously works out at least 4 hours a day or something. I think it hurt my elbow more than it hurt _him_.

"Sorry," I mumbled and rolled away, getting up to my feet. Isabella was standing two feet away grinning at her wonderful joke. "You are so going to die, bitch,"

She cocked an eyebrow.

"Again," I added.

"Who are you talking to?" Jesse asked cautiously, as he got up and brushed his pants off. He was wearing a look on his face that suggested in big, bold letters: We're on the right planet, but is she?

I smiled sheepishly as I turned around, ignoring Isabella who was laughing her head off. "Um. Alter ego. Gets the better of me sometimes, you know?"

"Uh-huh. So it wasn't just Isabella laughing at you right?"

"Damn straight it wasn- what the hell!" I looked at Isabella, who was nodding. "You can see her?"

He nodded. "Well, yes, that's obvious. I realised you could see ghosts when I found you fighting Trina and Greg,"

I swallowed the questions that were forming at an alarming rate. This was just WAY too much to process right now. "What?" I asked instead.

Jesse shook his head, and took my arm. "We should go for a walk. We have a lot to talk about,"

No kidding. And I still hadn't talked to him about last night either. Yay.

But did I really want to be on my own with Jesse? I mean, he lied to me once. He could be a total asshole for all I know. I'd have to ask someone later about him.

It was really unnatural how before the whole Paul-fiasco, being alone with a guy was no big deal. It didn't matter. I was so naïve then. But now I knew. All they did was use you for some reason, no matter how pathetic, and then hurt you.

"Um… I don't think so," I finally said. I could tell he was hurt by what I said, and dropped my arm like a hot potato.

"Okay then. I'll see you around alright?" he hurriedly excused himself.

"Wait," I said quickly. He stopped and turned around. "Um. Did anything happen, I mean, what happened last night?"

Hanging his head, he ran his fingers through his black hair and walked back up to me. "You were beating your boyfriend up. I stopped you, held you back. You took off. Fell unconscious on the beach. I took you to my place because I knew your parents would freak if I brought you to your home. That's all," he replied shortly, as if he couldn't be bothered. He was obviously annoyed at me for some reason.

"So nothing between us…?"

He gazed blankly at me for a second. "Of course not. Do you think I'd take advantage of you or something? What kind of person do you think I am?"

That's the problem. I don't know what to think anymore.

I tried to sound casual. "I just wanted to make sure I didn't do anything while I was drunk… because last time I couldn't remember I-" I broke off and coughed. "Doesn't matter,"

Jesse stopped the harshness and came up closer. "What happened?"

I shook my head. The memories just haunted me all the time… but I didn't want to go back on them. It just made the fact that Paul had betrayed me so much more difficult to bare.

"Well isn't this cozy? Always knew you were cheating on me with _that_ dickhead," I turned around and saw Paul standing there with his arms crossed. I couldn't believe his nerve… it was the first time I'd come near him since Friday night. Well, he'd come near me. Whatever. I was about to lunge at him and prepare for round 2 when Jesse grabbed my waist and held me back.

"Slater. Apologize to Susannah, now," he said angrily.

Paul grinned slyly, and rocked his head from side to side with every word. "Fuck. Off. Rico."

I looked up at Jesse in shock and in my surprise saw his jaw twitch. Obviously Jesse could control his anger like nobody's business.

I'd give him 2 minutes.

Jesse's grip on my waist tightened, as though he was imagining it to be Paul's neck. I could practically feel the hate radiating off him. Being between the two was gonna be dangerous business, I knew that for sure.

Prying his fingers off my hips, I peeled away from Jesse. "You should go, now, I need to talk to Paul _alone_,"

Despite the situation, a small smile crept up on his lips. "Leave you alone with him? Do you think I'm stupid? You'll kill him,"

"I would do no such thing,"

"You'd kill each other,"

I sighed. "Please?"

Shaking his head, Jesse glared at Paul and went back over to a bunch of people that all had the same black hair and brown eyes. Must be his family.

I turned and looked at Paul. "You have a lot of nerve to come here and accuse _me_ of cheating on _you_, bloody dickwad,"

He smiled again. "Suze. Come on. With Debbie? Would you think I would cheat on you with that?"

The denial option. My gaze remained stonily on his. "Quit the bullshit Paul. Just tell me something – how long?" it was the one question I'd wanted to know since forever.

Paul, the shit-buster, laughed. "I was not-"

"Paul," I warned.

He stopped laughing. "Fine. 3 months,"

I felt like a bus had just hit me. Twice. And again. 3 months? That was way before we'd first started sleeping together! It was around the time he'd first said he wanted to have sex in the first place. The ASSHOLE!

I caught him around the throat with my hands and we thudded onto the ground. "I can't BELIEVE you!" I screamed, all of the rage that had been somewhat suppressed in the last 2 days rising up again, "3 MONTHS! 3 FREAKING MONTHS?"

I swear if Jesse hadn't of pulled me off him I would have been tempted to kill him. My god. I couldn't believe it. I was hoping it had only just been recent, like a few days. I could have handled it better. But 3 months? I'd lost my virginity to a complete and total asswipe! I just wanted to kick the utter sassafrass outta the guy. I am so sure.

But most of all, it was the fact he even tried to deny it. I mean, Debbie herself had told me. And he tries to DENY it?

I can't believe he was EVER worthy of my knickers.

And my knickers were pretty. Blue and pink, with butterfly's and lace and…

Where was I? Oh yeah, mad at Paul.

"Jesse!" I panted, trying to get away from him. He had caught me around the stomach, like he was trying to perform some weird Heimlich manoeuvre. "Let me at him!"

"Let you at him? Uh, no." he replied sarcastically. Whoa. Jesse has sarcasm. That's amazing.

Paul got up off the floor. "You bitch!" he yelled, rubbing his throat, "I can't believe I was ever with you!" Ha. I could say the same thing about you. "You're an ugly whore anyway. Have fun with your Spanish guy," he finished, and strolled off.

A whore? A WHORE? I had stopped struggling when he called me bitch, but I had started up again. Sure, I _know_ I'm not a total supermodel or anything, but that was seriously low of him.

"Susannah, SUSANNAH!" I stopped. Jesse had never raised his voice at me before.

"What?" I snapped.

"Don't let him get to you, Susannah. You know what he says is not true,"

I felt so close to tears it isn't funny. "Jesse, please, I HAVE to do this,"

Jesse wrenched my body around so I couldn't see Paul's retreating figure anymore, and sat me down on the grass. "You don't have to do this Susannah! Now, can you explain why I can't leave you alone with him for 3 seconds without having to stop attempted murder?" he looked down at me.

So, so close to tears right now. I could feel my eyes getting itchy. But I WOULD NOT cry in front of Jesse. I do not cry in front of people. Suze Simon, cold-hearted bitch, does NOT cry.

"I don't want to say. No, actually, I WON'T say, so stop asking me," I said angrily.

He said a bad word in Spanish. Ha. He's probably giving up on me. I knew I wasn't worth the effort. "I am trying to understand you," Jesse said, frustrated, "but you won't let me,"

"Maybe," I offered, "It's because I don't trust people anymore. How about that?"

Screwing up his eyebrows, he said "You won't trust people? You seemed to have trusted Paul,"

Note the whole past tense thing. "Exactly,"

We sat in silence for a while, neither of us saying what we wanted to. I was dying to know about the whole Mediator thing, but held my tongue. So what, he was a mediator too. No big – I only know 3 others who have the same ability. But I wanted to know so badly what he knew about Trina and Greg, and if he knew any of the other ghosts I'd come across. Jesse seemed to know something about the Mediator subject that I didn't.

Finally, I breathed out a sigh and said quietly, "Thanks," Jeez. Why did I say that anyway? Oh yeah, coz he looked after me when I was out of it. Yeah. That's it.

He seemed surprised. "For what?"

"Friday night," I admitted, not looking at him. How did it come to this? Usually I'm cool around guys.

_But that was before…_

I wasn't going to get involved with anyone else for… forever, pretty much. I have had enough of being used. I was officially boy-cotting my life.

So in other words, those feelings I had when I landed on top of Jesse? Suddenly, not so good. I couldn't, you know, _like_ him. As if. He was like, 2 years older than me.

And friends with Sleepy. I think that's pretty much self-explanatory.

I don't like Jesse. Never have, never will.

Yeah.

_I am so screwed. _

-§-

Not surprisingly, Dopey barely had come out of his room since Friday. I mean, it's no shock. We were both hurting, on account of the fact our respective boyfriend/girlfriend were cheating on us and everything. What shocked me the most was that I was angrier with Paul than with Debbie.

Sure, I was more than pissed with the girl, but after she called me soon after coming back from the funeral on Sunday, I didn't hate her that much.

Still did, mark my words, but just not as much.

Sleepy had given me that phone without telling me who it was. I guess if he had, I wouldn't have talked.

"Hello?"

There was a momentary silence on the other end before she mumbled, "Suze, please, don't hang up on me, I need to talk to you,"

My finger was so close to pressing the off button, but then decided not to. "Fine. Talk."

Debbie breathed a sigh of relief, one which almost made me consider hanging up again. "Thankyou. Oh my god Simon, I am so, so, so-" if she says so one more time I _am_ hanging up, "-sorry about what happened. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I never got the nerve." Am I supposed to be feeling sorry for her right about now?

News flash: I feel more sympathy for Osama Bin Laden.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" I snapped.

She sounded taken aback. "Um. I might have, maybe."

"Like, after maybe 6 months, instead of 3?"

Debbie started crying. I could hear her gasping sobs. "My god, I never meant to hurt you, I didn't! I swear. I just… Paul has this thing over you…"

No kidding dude.

"and I just gave into him. I never meant to, and I've been feeling soo guilty about this since forever," I guess that explains the weirdness, "and when I finally told Kelly, she insisted I don't wait any longer. She said something about you sleeping with him," oh, gee, thanks a lot Kelly, "and because, well, I had as well, I knew I definitely had to stop."

The news that he was having sex with her seriously didn't rock my boat. I figured that much on Friday, from the way she was finding it so hard to tell me.

But if she was expecting me to forgive her, it wasn't coming. I fed her silence. Nothing but silence.

"And I felt soo bad, like, seriously Suze. You have no idea how much it was killing me. And when I saw how you reacted," I guess knocking yourself out is a pretty nice explanation of how you're feeling and all, "I felt even worse. Really bad. Brad's not talking to me either,"

No shit Sherlock. I still answered her with silence.

"I know Brad must be feeling really bad," okay. Now she's just telling me she has a high opinion of herself. I mean, how does she know that Dopey is moping around? Okay, he is, but whatever.

"Brad isn't feeling bad Debbie," I finally said, "he went to a party last night with another girl,"

That stunned her a little, and she replied in a tiny voice, "I deserve it I guess,"

"Yes, you do," Hey, she was apologizing to me for having sex with Paul behind my back. What am I supposed to do, be _nice_?

Invite her over for pancakes and coffee?

Uh, I don't _think_ so.

"Are you done?" I snapped.

"Um," Debbie sounded taken aback, "I just wanted you to know that I know what I did was horrible, dishonest, and I am a total bitch," try major bitch, and we might be getting somewhere, "but I never meant to hurt you,"

"Are you done?" I repeated.

"Well, yes-"

And _then_ I hung up. Throwing the phone onto my bed, I walked across the hall and banged on Dopey's door.

"What?" he gruffed from inside. I barely heard him above the pounding of the music.

"Can I just talk to you for a sec?" I shouted.

He didn't answer, so I opened up the door. I had been in here once again, and I don't think it had changed all that much. Dopey was lifting weights, more so lately than ever. I had a feeling it was his release, like punching the shit out of objects was mine. Walking over to the stereo I turned the blaring sounds of the Prodigy down to a minimum so he could hear me.

"What do you want?" he asked rudely.

"Debbie called-" I began.

He said a swear word.

"And she just sorta rambled, and then said she was sorry for what she did to you," I said, before walking towards the door. What he did next shocked me so much it would have to go down somewhere in the Guinness.

"Are you okay Suze?"

I stopped, and turned around. "Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes. "I said 'are you okay?'"

I blinked. "Oh, yeah, great,"

"Because you don't look it, no offence,"

"None taken," I muttered, as I walked out of his room and slammed the door. The music was turned back up upon my retreat so it reverberated throughout the house again. I made my way to my room, and was just about to straighten my hair when Kelly called.

She asked me if I was okay, and all that jazz. And how worried they were when I left… so worried obviously, they didn't bother to follow me at all. Anyway, she started defending Debbie's motives.

"Seriously Suze, you can't totally blame Debbie, it was Paul's fault too you know,"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Kells. Of course it was. But you know, obviously Debbie doesn't have a lot of will, because resisting Paul isn't that hard you know,"

Kelly snorted into the receiver. "Right Suze. You only slept with him half a dozen times," I RESENT that! "And you're talking to me about control?"

I didn't answer her back.

"But come on, I mean, please just look at it from Paul's perspective," I'd rather not, "You didn't want to have sex for ages. You were always pushing him away. So he found someone who wouldn't,"

"That is not the same thing! Just because I wouldn't put out doesn't mean I never would have," Okay, not the truth. I wouldn't have put out to Paul. But then I got drunk and… I think we know what happened.

"What do you expect Suze? Paul's hot. A lot of people would find it hard to resist a guy like him,"

Ugh. I can't believe I'm even talking about this! "Whatever," I mumbled, and hung up on her.

I walked into the bathroom, plugged my trusty straightener into the power point and glanced at my reflection.

Oh yeah, by the way, have I ever mentioned just how happy I am that my heart is quite strong? Because what I saw could make anyone susceptible to a heart attack.

Not my reflection you moron. I'm talking about what was written on the mirror, in bold red lipstick.

_Soon_

Just one word that filled my body with a lot of dread.

Because it's exactly what I'd been fearing. That guy on the loose… the same one who tried to capture me all those weeks ago – he knew who I was. And where I lived.

I didn't freak out, like Tara Reid in Josey and the Pussycats, where she's in the shower singing 'If you're happy and you know it' and when she steps out and sees her mirror she screams and stuff.

Nah, with me it's much more subtle.

I burnt my finger on the straightener of course. Duh.

But, I know you're saying, how can you be so sure about that?

Maybe it's because that is the one thing I'd been waiting for. I'd just been waiting for the day he comes after me again. I'm not stupid – that month ago he had meant to make me join Mina, Dana, Lucy, Amy, Isabella and the others.

And the word I used to sum up my current situation?

"Duck" or at least a swear word that rhymes with it.

I was in trouble.

-§-

I chose not to tell anybody about the word. Pathetic, I know. That might, as usual, have saved me later on. But I didn't do it. I didn't let anyone know, mostly because I thought I was overreacting.

All it was, besides, was a word. Just one. It didn't mean a lot at all.

So for the days that followed it, I forgot about it

I sorta had different things to worry about, namely school. Kelly understood I was a 'little' mad at her, Debbie knew I probably would punch her if she spoke to me, and Paul stayed away from me to avoid getting his nose broken. Jules thought the whole situation was paranormally funny.

She actually inhaled the soda she was drinking when they got to the part where I tackled Paul at the party.

Yes, isn't it _funny_?

Roxy was the tiniest bit more sympathetic, saying I'm lucky Paul didn't press charges or anything. I guess I can be thankful for that, but he wouldn't have anyway.

He's just not the snitching type person.

But he is the life-ruining person, you can bet your cheese on that.

But the surprise came after school on Thursday, after my Taekwondo lesson at the Y. A phone call.

Yes. Another one.

I answered it normally with a lil' old "Hello?"

"Soon," was all they said. I couldn't pick up the voice, because it was muffled beyond belief, but it was definitely the guy.

I dropped the phone, and quickly pressed the off button. Sitting on my bed I tried to breathe a little, when it rang again. Snatching it up, I shouted into the receiver "Piss off you freaking perv!"

"Uh Suze? It's me, Gina,"

I nearly dropped the phone, but for an entirely different reason. "G-Gina?"

"Yo, that's me. Are you okay? You sound uh… weirded out,"

Understatement of the year.

"I'm fine, seriously. So what's up?"

"The sky," she answered smartly back, "actually, I'm ringing to let you know that I'm coming your way this weekend!"

I breathed. "You lie,"

"Nope, girl, I'll be hitting California very soon!"

Blinking, I stuttered, "How? I thought your mum said she couldn't send you all the time and-"

"No, we didn't win the lotto – I wish, she just saw how much I missed ya and gave me the ticket and shit. So is it alright if I come?" she laughed.

"Are you kidding girl? Come here pronto,"

Gina snorted. "Aren't you gonna ask first?"

Oh right. My bad.

But they said it was excellent, which is how I found myself at the airport, hugging Gina when she arrived. "Dude, this is awesome!" she gushed.

Then she looked at me and cocked her head. "What's up? You look different since my last trip to California," _(A/N: Let's just say everything in Shadowland, Ninth Key and Reunion – as well as meeting Paul – happened, except of course Jesse wasn't a ghost okies?) _

I shrugged. "The _grande_ Californian diet of alcohol and chocolate. Try it sometime," Gina shook her head and laughed, slinging her arm over my shoulder.

"So… where's Jake?"

I backed away as they did their little reconciliation thingy. Dopey seemed more excited than usual, probably because he doesn't have Debbie anymore to hold him back from winning Gina's affections. Like, gag me right now please.

By Friday night, Gina had known everything there was to know about the things that had happened, when she hit me with a bombshell.

"So Simon, obviously Paul wasn't the Guy,"

My stomach dropped. I remembered back to when she was last here, and freaking out because she thought Michael was my one true love that would last eternity. Then when I got with Paul, she presumed it was him.

"Obviously not," I replied shortly, not wanting to go into it.

Gina didn't get the hint though. "Who could it be though? Like any guys at the moment?"

The first name that popped into my head embarrassed me so much, I quickly said, "Jeez, Gina, I just broke up with Paul. What do you think?"

"Get real babe, there must be someone,"

"Why?"

She looked clueless. "Well, it's just, if you didn't, wouldn't you think you'd be hurting over Paul a lot more? But you seem to be sorta okay with it,"

I answered her quickly, hoping to get her off the subject. "No, there is no dream rebound guy at the moment. You'll be the first to know when there is okay?"

Gina sighed, and shovelled some chips into her mouth. "Man, there is no juicy gossip around here is there?"

I just laughed, and threw a chip into her copper hair. Last time I'd seen her she had them in braids, but now it was just as it always was – soft, flowing and completely gorgeous.

And it turns out the hair is the only thing that's changed. Gina still knows everyone.

"Jesse!" she cried the next day when he came over to study with Jake. She leapt into his arms and hugged him tightly. "My god, how long has it been?"

"Way long," he answered, trying to breathe as she wringed his neck.

I must have looked clueless, because Jesse explained that he was a friend with one of her brothers when he used to live in Brooklyn. I'm not kidding – the guy lived in New York too.

Holy crapola, my life is getting weirder by the second.

This fact was especially scary, considering I might have actually met him once before – when I was really young though and I had slept over at Gina's, and her brother's friends had been there. I never really paid much attention, but Jesse said he moved to Carmel when he was 12. I just couldn't believe that Gina had known him all along. She didn't seem surprised that we had met here either.

"Well duh Simon, he's friends with Jake after all,"

I just rolled my eyes at this response. I usually don't make a habit of talking to _everyone_ like she does.

Andy, being the wonderful cook that he is, asked Jesse to stay for dinner. It was a little awkward, sharing a table with him, but I got over it after a while. His manners were, like, totally great, and I could tell mom was practically falling in love with him over the dinner rolls.

Except for the fact that she is, of course, already married to Andy and hopelessly devoted to him. I found I couldn't stop thinking about the phone call I'd received a few days before, and it kept reminding me that the shit would hit the fan _really_ soon.

And I sure as hell didn't like that idea.

By the time we had finished, Gina and I hit the sack, and I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

And that one word haunted my dreams.

_Soon _

**Jesse's POV**

The party had been practically out of control, alcohol being served to anyone that could drink it.

Suddenly, there was a crash of chairs, and a few people started shouting. I made my way to the scene and saw Susannah beating her boyfriend Paul.

Without thinking, I strode forward and broke them up. And I have to hand it to Susannah – she is tough when she wants to be. I only just managed to keep her subdued, against her struggling. Paul was helped up and asked her if she was high.

"Eat shit Paul," was all she said, and with a tug that took me by surprise, she ran towards the front door. The minute I saw her grab a bottle of straight vodka, I ran after her.

She ran down to the beach, and was guzzling it down like there was no tomorrow. I had just reached her when she slipped out of consciousness - and now was not the time to be unconscious on a beach, with the serial killer out there somewhere.

Gently picking her up, I parted her hair and swept it away from her face, taking in her beauty. She didn't look her best at the moment, but it didn't matter. She'd always be beautiful to me. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't know if I should. Could I take her to my house to rest? If I knew Susannah at all, she wouldn't react very well to it at all.

Put it simply, _mi querida_ would go over the roof to wake up in someone's house she didn't know that well. But what it came down to is either I did that, or she be left here. And there would be no way I would do that.

"_Dios_, Susannah, what have you done to yourself?" I muttered.

Walking back up to the party, I found my car and laid her down in the backseat, before driving to my house. My parents and sisters were already sound asleep when I arrived, so I managed to take Susannah up to my room without a fuss. I knew they would all disapprove of her sleeping in my room, but there was nowhere else to put her.

I put her on my bed gently, and stood there watching her sleep for a little while. I stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers, and ran my hands through her hair. She would never know – she could never know – how I felt about her, my true feelings. At least, not now. Something had happened with her boyfriend, and even though I wanted to know, I knew I couldn't ask her right now. So instead I watched her sleep for a little while.

Even though Susannah probably did not know it, she would always be protected by the necklace she wore. The necklace I gave her of an Egyptian Shaman. Because that's what she was. A shifter, just like me. She had more power than she had ever dreamed of.

Summoning up my courage, I bent down and lightly kissed her forehead, hoping that she wouldn't wake"I don't think you'll ever realise just how beautiful you are _querida_," I breathed, and sat on the beanbag in the corner. I wanted to watch her all night, but unfortunately sleep overtook me. I would wake up early, so I could explain everything in the morning.

Unfortunately, by the time I had awoken, she had disappeared through the open window. I silently cursed myself for not writing a note. She must have thought I was perverted to have done this. I looked at the clock, and it displayed half-past 8. Something told me that she had been long gone.

I didn't see her again until the funeral of Isabella Rickman. My younger sister Josefina had been devastated when they found her body, since Isabella had been a friend of her's, so we went along to pay our respects. I noticed at the start of the session Susannah standing by herself, looking unhappy.

And I guess at a funeral that's what happens. But I also figured out that Isabella had come to her, just like me, and asked her to attend the funeral, since she was of no connection with her otherwise. I caught up to her after the funeral sitting on a bench, drinking more alcohol. This made me fairly angry. Why she kept doing this, drinking so excessively was beyond me. I did not understand why, but I knew she wouldn't tell me. She's a very enclosed person.

During the day she put up a wall, a barrier between who I know she was and who she pretended to be. But while I watched her sleep, I could see right through that barrier into what she really was – a sweet, loving and caring girl. If only she'd been exposed to a different environment, things might have turned out better for her. Nothing bad might not have happened to her.

Isabella had shown up soon after, being the little con artist that she is. She had this weird idea that we were made for each other. Not only is that embarrassing, I was hoping beyond hope she hadn't mentioned anything to Susannah. I was not interested in her knowing my affections for her yet.

I knew she could hear Isabella, but she pretended she couldn't hear anything. I did the same thing when Isabella began blowing on my neck and whispering into my ear "Just kiss her already, gosh!".

Finally, we were thrown into the air, and to my horror, on top of each other. Give me a break – I am a guy. And I couldn't help but have impure thoughts about her just then, even though I knew I shouldn't. That, and the fact her elbow was embedded in my stomach, made me push her off.

Because I knew that if she had of stayed there any longer, I probably would have kissed her.

Not long after, Paul showed up again, causing mayhem like he usually does.

He even insulted _mi querida_ at one stage, and I could understand why Susannah had wanted to beat him up. I had to do everything I could not to rush him as well. But I held her back, while trying to control my temper.

My mistake, of course, was leaving her with him. Did I mention that Susannah has a particularly strong will? I had to do everything I could to avoid her from strangling him once I peeled her off Paul once more.

It had hurt when she said that she doesn't trust anyone, but I knew that it was to be expected. Even though it was really hard to take, the fact she wouldn't tell me, I had to live with it. While Susannah was angry at the world, I couldn't do anything to help her, no matter how hard I tried.

I was also thoroughly convinced she didn't like me all that much until she thanked me for Friday night. That gave me the tiniest bit of hope.

At least, until I talked to Gina when she visited Susannah. I was amazed that Gina knew her, because I had known Gina from quite a long time ago. She had pretended to go to sleep, but had snuck back out and down the hallway to where I was chatting to Jake.

"We need to talk,"

I nodded, and followed her down the stairs into the backyard. I could see the bay window of Susannah's room open above the porch roof.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She sighed, and leaned up against the tree. "It's Simon. How long has she been like this?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like this!" Gina gestured to the open window, "She's so different! I was putting my things away yesterday and I found a stash of empty alcohol bottles underneath her bed,"

So Gina had noticed as well. I looked at the ground, and kicked a pine cone. "She has been like this for quite a while now, but it's gotten even worse lately,"

"Why?"

Shrugging, I stared up at the moon. "Something happened with Paul. I'm not sure what, she won't tell me herself."

Gina nodded. "Yeah, I get that. She's a pretty hard person to open up. I'm not surprised."

I sat down on the floor and watched her pace. "I can't do anything – I'll be leaving in a few days. But you," she pointed at me, "you can help her,"

"I can't, she won't let me. Believe me, I've tried so hard to," I admitted.

She shook her head and slumped down next to me.

"What are we going to do?" she asked angrily, "I don't want my best friend to throw away her life like this. The person you know – the Suze you know – it's not her,"

I nodded.

"Just promise me one thing Jesse," Gina asked, "look after her when I go back to New York,"

I knew I couldn't make any promises. This was Susannah, who never listened to anyone else. She was a difficult person to get through to, and I know she probably never listened to me whenever I did try. But I did it anyway. "I promise,"

Gina bounded off into Jake's room, and I found the urge to see Susannah again too strong. Quietly, I slipped into her bedroom and watched her sleep, her face screwed up in what appeared to be a disturbed expression. "Soon," she mumbled, and tossed her head.

Even though I knew I shouldn't have, I snuck another light kiss on her forehead. With one last look at Susannah, I got up and I was about to walk out when I heard a thump coming from one of her bathroom windows. Making my way there, I switched on the light and felt my mouth hit the floor when I read the words smeared on her mirror with what appeared to be red lipstick.

_I'm coming for you…_

**A/N: So do you like? No like? This is my first attempt at a 21st century Jesse POV, so please tell me how I did. Please? Criticise me if it was terrible. Anyhoo, there was a leetle bit of fluff in here – I couldn't make it too much because there is other stuff that's gotta happen first, but believe me, it's coming. Anyway, the faster you review, the faster the next chapter will go up! Oh yeah, and more fluff every chapter too.**

_**Tuna pretzels, dugong eggs and mushroom legs… the goodness of life © (copyrighted by me, since one of my friends insists on stealing it all the time :cough: shonza :cough:)**_

**Luv Sarah xoxo**

_desesperado en amor:_ I am so sorry about what happened to your friends, here's a virtual hug for you! I hope this chapter cheered you up a little.

_Mrs. Wilkins de-silva:_ Lol Nikki, nothing gets past you aye? Hmm, why doesn't she know… good question. Thanks for reviewing!

_Melissa Trent:_ He might be the one she should trust, I don't know. I have no idea myself. :whistles: I'll just go check with the author… which is me. Lol. Can't tell you at the moment.

_Breaking.Benajmin:_ Arr! You changed your name! Lol, I figured it was you anyway. OMG, you like Story of the Year too? I read your profile a while back… whee! Anyway, thanks for your as usual awesome review, they make me smile – and drool cheese. The mushroom thing is big over here… and I'M freaked out now, because you use the same words as me:currently freaked out: Anywhoo, um… what's a moustache mean in prison? I has no idea!

_sioghsiofgh:_ She'll get better soon, I promise. Thanks for reviewing!

_Kitty-Skittelz:_ You got it wrong darl – chocolate spoons, vanilla knives, butterscotch forks. Thanks for reviewing (C ya 2moz).

_xoMirollie246:_ Whee! She did it excellently? Oh my… :faints: I'm so excited that people actually liked it! I was sorta scared it was a bit out of character, but apparently no one thinks so. So I feel special. And Miranda, totally spot on about Debbie lol. Hope this chappy was okay!

_Golden Angel71:_ She'll find out who gave it to her soon, I promise. Thanks for liking my story – and reviewing it too!

_kellie: _Thanks so much! Hope you liked this update.

_Lauren:_ Thanks for reviewing – it gives me a good idea of how many people are actually reading this story (a major on the motivation stakes). Neways, hope you liked this chapter!

_channie:_ Your favourite chapter:hugs you: Aww, I feel happy now. Anyway, hoped you liked this chapter!

_winnie:_ Thanks so much! Hope you like this one.

_DealNonDraco:_ :gasp: YOU STOLE MY SAYING SHONZA! I copyrighted it! Lol, just kidding… and since I sorta have to sit next to you in homeroom I'll learn to deal. Someday… thanks for reviewing!

_Angel In The Shadows36:_ Paul is a jerk. Which is why I'm having so much fun writing this fic now… coz I can make him that way. And I love Jesse soooo much. He is my one and only. Thanks for adding me to your favourite stories… and I'm IN LOVE with Love and Marriage… update it soon please?

_DemonicBallerina:_ Thanks for the review! Hope you liked this chappy!


	9. Like Crystal

**Disclaimer: Do not own the song used. It's Mad Season by Matchbox 20**

**A/N: Thanks soo much for the reviews. I love you all more than my Spongebob (it's a big deal, believe me)! You put the _cre_ in cretin, and _ative_ in laxative. Er, yeah. Random. Cough. You make me creative! Neways, here's another chappy, just for you guys… it's still in Jesse's POV. **

Chapter 9 – Like Crystal

_With some comments and editing done by the Almighty Channie_

I rushed over to Susannah's bed and gently shook her awake. "Susannah! Please, wake up!"

And in a move that was impressive even though it scared me, her arm shot out, grabbed my own and twisted it around. "Don't touch me," she growled, and got out of bed.

I waited a few minutes until she was fully alert, and said softly, "Your bathroom… something…"

She was in there like a shot. Don't ask me why. It's almost like she suspected it or something. By the time I went back in there she was already rubbing furiously at it with a couple of wet tissues.

I expected some emotion, at the very least. Perhaps for her to even be upset. But I got nothing, unless you count the "come on… just move it already, stupid words," she was muttering under her breath.

"_Querida_…" I asked cautiously, but she threw the sopping wet tissue in my direction with a flick of her wrist. I ducked, and it splattered on the wall behind me. Remind me to never wake her up again, I thought as I watched the white ball – stained with red – slowly slide down the blue dotted wallpaper. But I tried again anyway. "Susannah, what is this?"

"Good question," she answered, satisfied you couldn't see the threatening message anymore and binning the soggy mess, "now, let me ask you one. Firstly, what in the hell were you doing in my bathroom to see this, and why do you care?"

She was doing what she does best – being a little bit of a pain, and asking questions I didn't want to answer. I dodged the second half of the question, and instead answered the first. "Gina heard a noise coming from your bathroom and asked me to check on it,"

Fine. I lied. Like I could tell her the truth anyway. She didn't seem to believe me though. Screwing up her nose, she went "Yeah. And that's why Gina is standing right here,"

"She walked out to find me?" I added, putting my hands up in front of myself to make sure she didn't throw anything else in my direction.

Susannah didn't answer, instead dodging around me and throwing the covers back. "I'm going to bed, shut the door on your way out," she replied shortly, and seemed to doze off right there on the spot.

I didn't know what to think, so I did what she asked. I wanted to stay, mostly because I had a bad feeling something bad was going to happen, but I didn't want anymore projectiles thrown in my direction.

And there's nothing more dangerous than a female throwing stuff. I found that out from my sisters.

**Suze's POV**

Sheesh. He did it again.

And not in the Britney Spears way. No.

Did the whole knight-in-shining-armour thing again, I mean. I waited until I heard him walking down the stairs before I threw the covers back, and leapt into my bathroom again. I couldn't break down in front of Jesse, but now that I was alone, I felt a few tears start to form in my eyes.

He had been in my bathroom. He had been in my own FREAKING HOUSE, while I was asleep. If before hadn't been a proper wake-up call, now sure was. I mean, what could have happened if Jesse hadn't been there?

And what exactly did the guy mean by 'I'm coming for you'?

And how in the hell did he know where I lived?

There were so many questions that were slipping through my mouth as I said them quietly to myself. I didn't even notice I was speaking. I looked at the small window, the only way they could have gotten in, and pulled it. It opened easily, and there were no security screens to keep anything out. That, I knew, was going to have to change.

Seriously, I mean, my _bathroom_ wasn't safe anymore. What if he'd known about it for ages? What if he'd like, seen me in my altogether or something?

Um. Mental image I coulda done without, thankyou.

Closing it softly and making sure it was secure, I snuck out of my bay window, shimmied down the tree and went over to the row of lattice we had at the side of the house. Snapping a piece of the wood off, I returned to my bathroom…

Only to find the window open again.

"Okay", I said softly as I looked at the spiky point of the wood, "that is it!" There is nothing I hate more than being jerked around like a puppet on a string. I HATE being played with, I HATE my emotions being toyed with… and most of all I HATE crazy rapists who can't stop annoying me all the freaking time.

Yeah.

Slamming the window shut, hard, as if I was imagining it being the guys fingers I was connecting the glass with, I put the stick inside the lodge of the window and pressed it up against the end so it was sloped diagonally across the pane. That would stop it from opening. Then I picked up the hair straightener – yeah, sure, the stake of wood might have been a better weapon… against vampires. I'm not Buffy, in case you haven't noticed – and slowly walked back into my room. I must have looked a sight, edging in Lara Croft style armed with a ceramic hair-straightener. But don't knock it until you've tried it.

And never, _ever_, underestimate a female with her most prized possession. Yah man.

Suddenly Gina opened up the door, and walked in. Taking one look at me with the hair straightener, she gave me one of her famous 'I won't ask' looks which she used to employ a lot back in Brooklyn, and walked into the bathroom. I guess, being from New York, we've seen everything.

And me with a Remington in my hand doesn't exactly count as the weirdest thing ever I guess.

"Oh man, I just opened that!" she complained from inside the adjoining room. I nearly dropped the straightener on my foot.

"What?" I asked, practically weak with relief. I heard the wood being wrenched out, and the window opened again with the soft tap of glass.

She walked back out and chucked me my stick. "Jeez, Simon, paranoid much?" Gina began brushing her long auburn locks. "The bathroom doesn't get a lot of airflow. And I only opened it like, 2 seconds ago. Sorry, but if you're so against wind drafts, you're gonna have to sink under your comforter tonight,"

I rolled my eyes and sheepishly put my, ahem, weapon away. Maybe she's right.

Maybe I'm just a little jumpy at the moment. Heh, almost makes you want to shove on Garbage's I Think I'm Paranoid, right now. It'd fit right in.

Except, in my mind, I think I have every right to be.

_I'm coming for you… _

Can he just tell me when, so I can make sure I'm having a good hair day? So I pick the right death-clothes? Can I just have some notice?

Coz dying in like, my pjs, would just _suck_.

Suck lemons. And root beer.

I lay awake after that, thinking about everything amidst Gina's sleep talking. It incorporated the word 'Jake' in it more than once, so I seriously didn't want to know what it was about.

Seriously. I mean, scarring for life going on here.

But mostly it was like I was a mouse sitting in front of a trap. I could see the cheese. I wanted the cheese. But I knew that if I got too close I was pretty much dead meat.

And probably wouldn't get the cheese in the process either.

I had to do it all carefully. I knew the inevitable was coming. It was just a matter of when and where. Sooner or later. Seriously, the only thing I wished was that this was all over. Like it never started in the first place. But that wasn't going to happen.

So the only thing I could do was make sure he didn't hurt anyone else in the process. That he get me, and only me. I don't know if I could live if I knew that Gina, Mom, Andy or any of my stepbrothers got hurt in the process. Going mental would probably be the first option.

Or, I could just sit by and hope they caught him before it came to that.

Somehow, I didn't think it was going to happen. Maybe it was that feeling in the pit of my stomach they call your intuition. But I think it's the fact that, on the news the very next morning, they found the bodies of twin sisters a few blocks away from where I lived, in the water system. This time – the people he's killed after he escaped – around he seems to have a fixation with water. Everyone seems to be turning up in it, for some reason or another.

Mind you, a double murder? That was like, 9 on the creep out factor. Usually he's gotten them alone and then slaughtered them. And you don't want to know exactly how these girls were found. Not the specifics anyway.

Three words. Water Cleaning System.

I guess they won't be having an open casket funeral for them two either.

"Isn't it awful?" Mom asked, as she came in the lounge room and sat down on one of the sofas. I was hugging my knees watching the TV, while she just casually crossed her legs, glaring at the women on screen with contempt. It was common knowledge that mom was one of the most successful newsreaders in California. But her archenemy, Tracey Splicer _(A/N: Sorry Tracey Spicer – channel 9 news reader over here – no offence or anything) _was the one reporting it. So forgive me for asking what she meant was awful. The fact her enemy got the good report, or the brutal murder.

"What do you think? The girls of course!" and stalked out.

Well, _sor-ee_ for thinking she might have been a little worried about her job. Heck, I woulda been.

Mom though, was replaced by Gina, who came in a few moments later. Collapsing on the loungechair, I asked cheerfully, "Sleep well?"

She shot me a dirty look. "I sleep-talked didn't I?"

Ahh. So the drama. "Uh, yeah,"

"Goddamit,"

"Hey, whatever it was, it sounded okay… from your point of view. For me I was just _mildly_ grossed out,"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever Simon," and tuned into the news. "2 more girls eh?"

I nodded. "You could say that. A few blocks from here actually. Now can you understand why I'm so freaking paranoid?"

Gina looked at me sharply. "I never said you were. I just said… oh yeah,"

"Point exactly,"

Shaking her head, she listened to the news some more while attempting to work the knots out of her hair. Did I mention that until she drags a brush through her hair it's just a little well… frizzy?

Like… Anne Hathaway at the beginning of Princess Diaries frizzy?

Don't get me wrong. I love Gina, seriously. But there are just a few things I'll never tell her. One being the fact I converse with the dead on a daily basis – yeah, she's from New York, but that kinda thing will _definitely_ surprise her… like, call up the nice place with the white padded rooms kinda surprised – and the second being I am currently being stalked by a serial rapist and murderer.

But, again, I won't tell her that, because well… sorta relates to number one, if you get my drift.

Haven't you notice I tend to babble heaps when I'm shit scared? No? Well, yeah, fact. I do. But thankfully my train of thoughts was interrupted by Sleepy coming in and saying good morning to his baby doll.

His words. Not mine. Ew.

After that Gina did… whatever she did with him. I seriously didn't want to look. I'm already too corrupted as it is.

"So, what do you do around here Simon?"

I blinked a few times. 'Wha?"

Gina shot me a disapproving look. "I said, what do you Californian's do around here?"

I shrugged. Oh, I dunno. Go to parties. Get drunk. Being smashed off your face is kinda the go this season.

Unless you have sex with your evil backstabbing cheating ex-boyfriend who apparently thinks Debbie is a better piece of ass than myself. Yeah, that's Paul look-at-me look-at-me Slater's prerogative in life.

Hey. It was only 6 months I went out with him. 6 MONTHS. That's not very long.

I am allowed to be a hypocrite. Paul is an asshole.

Gina got up, grabbed my arm, which was clasped around my legs and pulled me off the couch. "That's it. We're going shopping,"

Shopping. One word that filled me with so much dread.

More dread, actually, than _I'm coming for you…_ but I have my priorities in order. Malls fill me the sort of terror that serial killers never will.

I know I'm weird. Thanks for the newsflash.

Which Gina made a point of the minute we entered the coffee shop. I was sitting there absent-mindedly stirring my chocolate milkshake, looking down at the brown frothiness of the stuff that'll go right down to my thighs. Not that I care, really. I have a fast metabolism.

"What?" I asked, not hearing her.

"You," she gestured to me impatiently, "are impossible,"

I stared at her blankly. "Say what?"

"My god, are you stoned or something?"

I shook my head. Gina whipped her had forward and seized my glass, and I reacted with top speed and pulled it away. "My milkshake," I murmured.

She shrugged. "You just seem so out of it. Did something happen last night?"

Shaking my head again, I took a long slurp from my glass. "Nope,"

"Simon, something's up. You're so…" Gina circled her wrists as if trying to find the right word, "different," she settled on saying.

I nodded my head. "People change,"

"Not as much as you have,"

"Who cares?"

She slammed her fist down on the table. "I do. A lot of us do,"

I finished my milkshake and put it to the side. "Look, you haven't even been here for the past few months, so how do you know how much I've…" I trailed off, because I realised the answer before Gina had the chance to deny anything.

Jesse.

Freaking Jesse. Not only does he have to baby me, he has to go around telling everyone I'm loosing it. Oh, I outta…

Does anyone even finish that sentence?

"No one's said anything Suze, I've noticed-" she began.

"Jesse. Jesse told you didn't he?"

She looked instantly guilty. "Let's just keep Jesse out of the conversation, shall we?"

"Shall we not?" I snapped in response.

Gina rolled her eyes. "Oh, quit being a freaking melodramatic Simon, I was just wondering if you'd realised what I have?"

"What? That I've changed?"

"Yes, that is what enquiring minds would like to know,"

I could feel the steam rising up inside me. "You mean what you and Jesse would like to know so you can make me get 'help'? Well, newsflash Gina, I didn't come down in the last shower! I know what you're talking about. And no, I won't answer any questions you're gonna throw in my direction,"

"But Suze…"

"Nope,"

This time, Gina grabbed my hand and leant in. "Look, do I need to spell it out for you?"

I blinked.

"You're drinking. Too much. Don't think that cardboard box underneath the bed – which in the past few days has grown considerably fuller – goes unnoticed by someone who sleeps on an air mattress on the floor,"

I opened up my mouth, but Gina kept going, "You speed, apparently. Jake told me that you were pulled over a few weeks ago,"

"More like Jesse did," I muttered under my breath. Either Gina didn't hear it, or she chose to ignore it.

"You're getting into more and more fights," only because the assholic behaviour of this world won't freaking cease around here, "and getting drunk at more and more parties,"

Reason? I think California and the people in it are pretty self-explanatory.

And still Gina continued, until I interrupted. "What is this? 10 things I hate about you?"

Gina looked at me blankly, dropping my hand, then said matter-of-factly, "No, more like 10 things that have _changed_ about you,"

Oh man.

"Last time I visited California you had loosened up. It was great. Now you're _too_ loose Simon. You need to get your act together, pronto, or you'll finish screwing up your life royally,"

"I'm not screwing up my life. I'm having fun," I protested. Even though this wasn't true, I just wanted a pliable excuse – anything – to get her off my back and stop being so mom about it.

She was supposed to be my best friend, not my freaking _shrink_.

Sitting back, I opened my wallet and threw 4 dollars onto the counter top. "For my shake," I murmured, and then got up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gina demanded.

Where am I going? "Slowly insane," I said, walking out. I was so sick of people trying to smother me like a toddler. It was my life. I can do what in the hell I bloody want with it.

Why was everyone so against that?

_Not everyone_, I remembered. Then, checking my watch and seeing that it read 5pm, I headed over towards the only place I knew that populated these kind of people.

-§-

"Here," Jordan handed me a beer, "chug it down. It'll make you feel better,"

Tossing back my head, they whistled as I downed the whole thing in a couple of swallows. Clapping me on the back, one of his friends said, "Another!"

"Whoa, you seem a little messed up," Jordan said sympathetically. I was sitting shoulder to shoulder with him and some of his college mates in a beachfront nightclub called _Pipes_.

"Try heaps," I answered, licking the beer off my lips, "and you'll be getting somewhere,"

His friend Matthew clapped me on the back. "So, who's the pain in the ass you told Johnson about?"

"DeSilva," Jordan answered bitterly, "we know all about him don't we?"

Matthew shook his head. "And you actually hang around that guy?"

I shook my head. "No, he hangs around me,"

"And we all know why that is," another guy said, and grabbed a certain part of his anatomy.

Screwing up my eyebrows, I asked, "What?"

Jordan shot a look at his friend. "She doesn't know, you bloody idiot,"

Matthew put down his bottle, and leant in. "DeSilva, your guy-"

"He's not my guy," I said quickly.

He shook his head and continued. "Anyway, he hangs around girls until he gets what he wants,"

The alcohol must have been swishing around in my brain because I didn't get it. "Excuse me?"

Jordon took over. "Brainwave Suze – so he can fuck the shit out of you,"

Frowning, I found myself defending him. Defending him. Jeez. "I don't believe that,"

Only according to Jordan, I had fallen into the DeSilva trap. "My sister." He explained, "He goes for the younger ones. They're a lot easier to trick. You must think he's a saint or something eh?"

"I guess," I admitted. Jesse _was_ a little too good to be true.

"Yeah, you're caught. Well, anyway, cut a long story short, he got her into the position where there was no way she would turn him down. And then he banged her for all it's worth, and dropped her the next morning,"

Shaking my head, I answered, "Whatever. I doubt that's true. Are you sure we're talking about the same Jesse DeSilva here right?"

Matthew tapped my beer bottle and said grimly, "Go on babe. You're caught. Have a few more of these and the pain will pass,"

"I'm not in pain!" I said. "I do not like Jesse,"

All they did was shake their heads. "Poor girl," one of them muttered. Rolling my eyes, I threw the second one back just as quickly as the first.

The rest of the night passed while they told me horror stories about the same guy who had been in my room the night before. At first I couldn't believe it. I don't know what made me cling to the fact he wasn't like that. I mean, all guys were jackasses. All of them. So why should Jesse be exempt from this classification?

But I don't know. I guess I really was in this 'zone', as they kept calling it, and after a while I found myself believing them.

A few hours later, a familiar figure loomed in front of me.

"Jesus Suze, what are you doing here?"

Looking up into Sleepy's face, I shrugged. "Having fun?"

He shook his head. "Everyone's shit worried about you! Gina came home and realised you hadn't returned. She was fretting that the rapist guy had gotten you or something,"

Ha. Not yet.

I groaned. "Jeez, just let a girl breathe for once!"

Sleepy cocked an eyebrow and looked at Jordan and Matthew, who were practically flanking me. "Right. Breathe. Obviously your idea of space is having Jordan's arm around you then,"

Chucking the empty bottle at Sleepy, I said, "Just go away. I'm fine." He shook his head. I stood up and looked right into his eyes so he got the point. "Go away,"

"You need some help Suze," was all he settled on saying.

"I don't need your help!" I shouted.

Sleepy stepped back. "Suze, please don't do this. Don't do this to yourself," I turned around and began to storm off. He didn't understand. No one did.

"Go away! I don't care what you have to say!"

"Then I'll find the one person you will listen to," I laughed at this, even though it wasn't overly funny. No one would get me to listen to them, because I doubt they understand what I'm going through, who and what made me like this.

I went and sat down with Jordan and his friends. He put his arm around me again, and handed me a drink. It was all good again – I had alcohol and the company of people who don't care about anyone or anything-

"Susannah,"

I looked up and saw a face I hadn't seen since last night. Jesse. This was who Sleepy thought I'd listen to? He was wrong. So wrong. "Can I help you?"

He took a step forward. "Susannah, can I speak to you for a moment? It's important,"

I smiled lazily. "Can I take a rain check on that? I don't feel like conversing tonight,"

Not after what I'd found out.

Taking another step forward, he said in a voice that sounded slightly angered, "Susannah. Outside. Now."

Shaking my head, I replied, "No thanks,"

He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly, before coming right up to me, snatching the bottle clean out of my hand and grabbing my arm.

Jordan leapt up in between us. "Hey, the girl said to piss off DeSilva. If you want some you're just gonna have to wait your turn,"

Somehow I don't think he took this too well, if the fist being slammed into Jordan's face was any indication whatsoever. Jordan went sprawling face first back into the couch, and Jesse grabbed my elbow and forcefully shoved me towards the door. I resisted so much that he ended up holding me around the waist and throwing me over his shoulder with about as much ceremony as a sack of potatoes.

"Jesse!" I screeched, "Let me DOWN!" but he didn't listen. He marched us down the sand dunes towards the beach, without so much as a word to me.

A deserted beach.

Dude, people DIE on deserted beaches.

I think this realisation led me to start kicking my legs like a maniac and hitting his back with my fists. Finally, he slowly lowered me onto the sand. I stepped back quickly.

"What are you doing Jesse?" I practically screamed. He just looked at me without saying anything, his eyes, as usual, completely unreadable. "Answer me god dammit!" I shoved him with my hands. His own flew up and gripped my wrists.

_So why ya gotta stand there_

_Looking like the answer now_

_It seems to me – you'd come around_

I need you now 

"I think," he said softly, I could only just hear him above the crashing of the waves, "I should be asking you that question,"

I looked up at him furiously and tried to yank my wrists away, but he held them in the same iron grip Paul often employed. Paul had hurt me in more ways than I could count in this kind of grip. I began to panic. There was no one on the beach, apart from me and Jesse. Jesse was going to hurt me, just like Paul had. Like all guys had!

"Let me go!" I screamed shrilly, and fought against him. He wouldn't drop my hands; he just looked down at me, hurt obvious in his face. I was probably making it difficult or something. Pummelling him with clenched hands, I continued to shove and do everything I could to get away. All Jesse did was stare down at me, obviously waiting for me to get the punching out of my system before he did anything.

_Do you think you can cope?_

_You figured me out – I'm lost and I'm hopeless_

_I'm bleeding and broken – though I've never spoken_

_I come undone – in this mad season_

My arms were beginning to ache, my punches becoming less and less powerful. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't…

I couldn't.

Then, without warning, the tears came. They overflowed my eyes, like there was so much to get out and not enough time to do it. Like someone had located the 'waterworks' tap and swiftly turned it on full bore. I stopped fighting against him, and just let my arms sag between us. I had done what I'd never done before.

I'd given up.

It was just too much to handle. All of the emotions I had felt since I discovered Paul's betrayal starting to flood out in my tears, and I gave up. I was sick of fighting. Sick of being strong. Sick of all the bullshit Carmel had thrown my way since I'd arrived. I just wanted to be scared.

Yeah, not so graceful of little old me – breaking down in front of a person who would only use it against me. That would hurt me. Again, and again.

Go figure.

I must have looked a picture, standing there crying hopelessly. I felt all the energy drain out of me. I couldn't do it anymore. I felt my knees giving way when, like clockwork, he released my wrists and closed the gap between us. Guiding my head onto his shoulder, he patted my back.

_Now I'm crying – isn't that what you want?_

_I'm trying to live my life on my own_

_But I won't_

_At times – I do believe I am strong_

Oh. He just wanted to console me. How sweet.

Too bad I didn't believe it.

But his hard, muscular shoulder felt warm and comfortable under my cheek, secure and right. "Shh, _querida_, let it all out. I'm here for you," he soothed, stroking my hair. I shuddered.

The tears must have made me stupid, because I found myself blurting, "How do I know you won't leave? Just like you've left everyone else?" I choked out, my breathing ragged and deep.

"Susannah, I don't know why you are thinking that, but I will not leave you,"

_So someone tell me why, why, why_

_Do I feel stupid?_

_And I come undone_

_And I come undone_

Its so funny how after Paul had taken advantage of me and said the right things, I believed him. Like, despite everything Jordan had told me, I believed Jesse, and that he wouldn't go. It felt so nice at the moment to have someone who actually cared. My tears had soaked through his shirt and onto his tanned skin, but if he minded he didn't make it obvious, and I thanked him silently for that. I doubt he could even begin to imagine how much it meant to me. That someone, _anyone_, cared about me enough to do this.

I knew this was just a fleeting feeling, just like the last time, before I'd slept with Paul and everything. That it was only just a temporary feeling of security that would pass in like, 4 seconds. But for once, I just converted this into the tears I was shedding.

And you wanna know the most amazing part? I didn't feel self-conscious crying with Jesse at all. It was so abnormal for me to be crying _at_ _all_, let alone all over some guy.

I tell ya, I'm loosing my touch.

_I need you now_

_Do you think you can cope?_

_You figured me out – that I'm lost and I'm hopeless_

_I'm bleeding and broken – though I've never spoken_

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only 5 minutes, Jesse pulled back. "_Querida_, why would you think that?"

I blinked. What exactly was he asking?

"Why did you think you had no one? You will always have me Susannah, you always have,"

I blinked again, this time with embarrassment. "I said that?" I asked feebly.

He looked at the ground. "Yeah, you sort of mumbled it,"

"I… I can't tell you exactly why, it's too complicated, but thankyou, I guess," I said. Jesse nodded. "But, isn't it true?"

"What is?"

"I just need to know now, okay Jesse?" I asked, sounding business-like, "I need to know the truth. Everyone is saying that with girls, you do what you want with them, and then drop them like a hot potato,"

This time he blinked. For the first time I'd known him, I had him stunned. "Wh-what?" He asked disbelievingly, "I would have never! Who told you that?"

Jordan. Matthew. Derek. I shrugged. "A few people. Like Jordan, for example,"

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Jordan, is a-" he said something in Spanish I didn't recognise.

"What?"

Shaking his head, he said, "Never mind," and turned around towards civilisation again. He walked me home slowly, in silence. And I guess there really wasn't much to be said.

_Well I need you now_

_Do you think you can cope?_

_You figured me out – I'm a child and I'm hopeless_

_I'm bleeding and broken – though I've never spoken_

_I come undone_

_In this mad season_

_In this mad season_

Finally, we got a block away from my house. Instinctively I wiped my eyes, which I hadn't noticed were still streaming steadily. I guess once you start it's really hard to stop and everything. Probably because I'd bottled everything up. Overall, I think I'd handled Paul's cheating quite well. The only major bout of pain I'd exposed was right then, on Jesse's shoulder. Speaking of which…

"Jesse? Can you, um, like, not mention my waterworks episode please?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're 'waterworks' episode? Susannah, you had every right to be upset,"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Just, please don't?"

Smiling, he quickly bent down and kissed me softly on the cheek. Before I had any time to process this, he was saying "_Buenos noches, querida_," and walking away.

Instinctively, I touched the part where he had kissed, which was still tingling. One thing was for sure – a full-blown make out session with Paul didn't even rival a single kiss on the cheek from Jesse.

And you wanna know what? That scared the utter shit out of me.

Watching his retreating figure, I smiled a little, then scolded myself. What are you doing Suze? Going gaga over another guy? ARE YOU CRAZY?

Do you want a Paul repeat?

No, I answered myself. I don't want a Paul repeat. But I couldn't think about that stuff right now. My mind was far too jarred anyway to decipher anything that had just happened.

Turning around, I headed towards home. Well, at least, I tried to.

Mostly because at that moment something was shoved roughly over my mouth and nose that smelt… really weird. Like… I couldn't figure it out. Then, like all of the thinking had made me tired, my eyes starting drooping involuntarily.

No! You idiot! Don't go to sleep! Fight it! Fight it… 

But that voice fell on deaf ears. My vision and sensed completely blacked out, and I fell into an endless well of cold.

Suddenly, home seemed so much further than just a few feet away.

**A/N: I hope you liked this. Originally the 'breakdown' type thing was going to be in the next chapter, but I decided to combine them. Anyway I promise I'll update as soon as I can… please review! It'll make my day. And my birthday, considering it's on the 21st… 15 at last! Lol.**

**Luv the cee-ster xoxo**

**THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! I LOVED THEM ALL!**

**Kitty-Skittelz, Adeline Q, kellie: **Booya! I loved your reviews! Thankyou

**goth**: The fluff will definitely be with Jesse and Suze. I'm a Paul hater all the way!

**Claudine C**: I'm glad you liked Jesse's POV! I was really unsure, coz it was the first time I'd done it and everything. Thanks!

**desesperado en amor**: I think (by the cliffie) you've figured out when he's appearing. Thanks for reviewing!

**bbblfl**: Oh yeah, I forgot to put in my review for pieces chappy 14… of COURSE you can't live without my reviews. They are like oxygen to your lungs. They are like water to your stomach, they are like bullets to your brain… etc etc. Neways, the lemons aren't too lemony… speaking of which – I have no idea myself why they call them lemons… I just go with it. I shall try to look it up… but GO THE FLUFF! Which your story has heaps of by the way. Heaps. So, like, update it asap. Or I'll let the dogs out. Woof woof.

**Golden Angel71**: I hope you liked this chapter – I made her sorta open up to him anyway. Thanks so much!

**Angel In The Shadows36**: I dunno if I'll do the madame zara thing… but I think I'll be doing a sequel to this story so I might keep it in mind! Thanks for the great review, I love em.

**Querida1607**: Thanks for reviewing. I think I might hug you… :hug: Hope this is alright.

**Breaking.Benajmin**: LMAO! I love your reviews so much. They are so awesome… and long… and funny. With cheese. My obsession with cheese is just like yours with acorns. Except mine is sorta more stringy… and yellow. But I still love your reviews. I want to have their children. Uh. Yeah.

**moo**: Ah! Thanks for the review! It was yours that got me up off my toosh and continue writing this; otherwise the wait would have been a few days longer. Everyone bow down to moo!

**Koziak**: Thanks for the review, it also – like moo's – got me up offa me ass and made me finish this chappy. Hope you update Romeo and Juliet soon :)


	10. Blue Silence

Chapter 10: Blue Silence

The water was pressing in on me from all sides. Usually the dancing patterns of light were beautiful, but right now it was like a silent message.

_You're gonna die, Suzie pie…_

A small air bubble escaped from my lips, and I silently cursed myself. It sucks when you know you're gonna eventually drown, but I was trying to last the distance.

I didn't exactly want to die, peoples!

I didn't want to be another statistic, just another girl to add to the figure he's already killed. But it looks like that fact was inevitable.

It was silence. Complete, utter silence. Kind of like that time I was pulled down under the sea, trying to rescue a killer. Not that I knew it then, please.

Except the salt water was a little harsher than chlorine. Doesn't exactly make the whole suffocating-complex thing any easier.

Another precious air bubble escaped as I fought against the restraints holding me to the gravely floor. They were heavy, so much so I wouldn't have been able to move them, even if it wasn't drilled to the floor.

My lungs began heaving, protesting for air, like a naggy kid who is hungry.

_I can't_, I told them, as if they would understand and seize, _I can't get any oxygen right now, so shut the hell up! _

Whoa. I'm fighting with myself. This sucks.

Suddenly, there was a glimmer so bright I had to shut my eyes. When I opened them again, I was staring into the eyes of Mina. Jerking backwards in surprise – and then being pulled forwards again because of the chains – I blinked rapidly. She said something to me, but all I saw was bubbles being emitted from her mouth. I frowned and shook my head, hoping she'd get the message that I couldn't hear her.

Duh. I talk enough in real life that people say I could do it under water. Sure, you can. But it's another thing altogether to try and understand what the heck they're trying to _say_.

Mina grabbed the chains and pulled, but even with her super-ghostly-strength, they wouldn't budge. Then, without warning, she flashed me an incredibly sympathetic look as if to say _I'm sorry_, and disappeared.

Black dots began clouding my vision, my head feeling empty and light as if all the blood was rushing downwards, towards my heart, the pressure mounting on my already aching lungs. More used air was coming out of my mouth, but involuntarily. My jaw was sagging, and it was like all of my energy was evaporating into the water around me.

I was sinking down, lower and lower, to the bottom of the pool.

Sinking into my own inevitable ending.

**FLASHBACK**

I was being carried somewhere. Exactly where to, I didn't know, but I could tell it was inside a large building because the steps of the person holding me were echoing off the walls. Lifting my head upright and barely having the stamina to keep it there, I saw gravel. Lots of it. I tried moving, but my body was too weak.

At first I though the person was Jesse, because this was the way he had carried me just a little while ago.

"Hello?" I asked feebly, barely choking out the words.

"Shuddup missy," the person carrying me gruffed. Not Jesse. But I'd heard that voice before somewhere.

I fidgeted. "Who the hell are you?" I demanded.

He answered me in silence.

"Yo, jarhead, put me down," I said, slapping his back with the only strength I had. I felt like I was completely drained.

"I said stop talking or I'll slit your throat," he growled menacingly.

I shrugged, ignoring the panic inside as I realised who it was. Obviously something happened, and now I was in the possession of the dude formally known to me as Guy #2, aka. serial-killer dude.

So what?

"Okay," I answered.

Yeah. No big deal. Doesn't mean I have to be pleasurable company.

Not that kind of pleasurable. Ew, you immature minded people. For shame.

I'm meaning pain-in-the-hooha type. You know the ones. And I can be incredibly annoying if I put my mind to it. Oh yeah.

Sagging against him, being as heavy as I could, I propped my head up on my elbow – which was digging into his back, but who cares? That was the point – and began whistling 'Yankie Doodle'

"I SAID SHUT UP!" he roared after the 'called it macaroni' part. Obviously he's not the sing-a-long part. Man, isn't he deprived?

"Actually," I replied pleasantly, "you said stop _talking_. You never said anything about whistling,"

He made a frustrated sound.

"Are we there yet?"

Muttering under his breath, he said, "Shoulda killed her already,"

"But where's the fun in that?" I asked cheerfully.

Walking around a few crates, as far as I could see – considering I was given, for a whole hour, a really nice view of his jeaned backside – we had reached where he was carrying me. Needless to say, my decent from shoulder-hood was less-than graceful.

I was thrown against the wall.

I repeat. The wall. Seriously, has this guy got no etiquette? My god, I was going to give him a lesson later.

This would be fun.

_(A/N: I think only Suze would claim being in the midst of a serial killer 'fun')_

It was still night-time, so after he chained me up to a pillar holding up the ceiling – iron shackles, sorta like in the _Bone Collector_, except I don't see any steam pipes… thank god – he went to sleep. And it was really amusing watching him sleep. Mostly because he snores, sending his short, bristle-like hair fluttering, and his breathing creating a choked choo-choo-choo-choo sound.

I didn't sleep, but instead stayed awake, trying to scratch an itchy part of my neck with my chin, with my hair constantly getting in the way. It was agony I tell you. AGONY. I felt so weak, but my eyes didn't droop once. I wanted to be awake at all times, so I could at least have some hope of fighting him if he even thought for one second he was going to get in my pants like all the others. Not that I could fight him off – my first encounter with him those few weeks ago on the street proved that – but I shouldn't at least be completely hopeless.

Even though being chained to a wall sort of contradicts that, but whatever.

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts," I sang softly under my breath. A part of me wanted to wake him up so he could be all morning-pissy and such, but another part of me just wanted some _me_ time. Presumably because it might be the last lot of me time until I like, die, maybe. "There they are just standing in a row," I rattled my chains to go with the beat, "Big ones, small ones, SOME AS BIG AS YOUR HEAD!" I shouted the last part, and he jerked awake, looking around before settling on me with narrowed eyes.

Getting up, I continued, smirking slightly as he walked over to me. "Give em a twist, a flick of the wrist, that's what the showman sai-" Cutting my song short, he slapped my face.

"That was for waking me up," he slapped me again.

"And that was for?"

"Pissing me off."

He slapped me, yet again.

"Was that for being a crap singer?" I suggested, my cheeks stinging from the sudden assault. He opened up his mouth to reply, then stopped, as if considering that as an answer.

_Stupid idiot_, I thought, _exactly like his counterpart_.

Except his counterpart – who is dumber than he is – is still stuck in jail.

"So… you want me to stop singing?" I asked.

He just nodded.

I smiled. "That's great! But we don't always get what we want, you know. Agado-do-do, push pineapples, shake the tree, agado-do-do, push pineapples, grind coffee, to the left, to the right-"

"SHUT THE FREAKING HELL UP!" he shouted, except he didn't say freaking. Oh well. This was fun.

"And how are you going to do that?"

"How about drowning you in a well?" he snapped back. I grinned.

"Uh, _problemo_ sir – no wells in Carmel." At least, I hope so. "Jump up and down and slap your knees, come and dance every night singing the hula melody…" I continued the song as, shaking his head, he stalked away.

Operation drive-captor-insane was well underway.

_(A/N: Okay, the following part is in Jesse's POV, but it's set during this flashback thingy. The first part before the flashback is after all of this happened, including Jesse's count on things)_

**Jesse's POV**

I had no idea something bad had happened until the next morning, when Jake rang me up demanding to know where Susannah was. As if I would know. I told him this, and he seemed fairly panicked.

"But she came home with you right?"

I shook my head. What did he take me for? "No, I walked her home, and dropped her off a few houses away. Why, what's going on?"

Even though Jake tried to mask the fear in his voice, it wasn't working. "Dude," he breathed, "she's missing,"

"Missing," I echoed with detachment, "how could she be missing? Susannah is not one to slip through the cracks. Are you sure she isn't still in bed?"

"No, man, I mean she never got home last night,"

This shook me. It really did. I mean, her house had been right _there_. How, in the space of 30 feet, did she disappear? "Have you looked for her?" I asked, shrugging on a jacket over my t-shirt.

"Yeah. We called all her friends – Kelly, Debbie, Paul…" my jaw tightened at the mention of his name, but I didn't say anything, "none of them have heard anything from her. Nothing. It's almost as if she vanished without a trace,"

"That's impossible," I said, walking towards the front door, "no one can simply disappear. They have to be somewhere. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes okay?" and I hung up, walking around to the back yard. There, I summoned the remaining deceased spirits. Don't ask me why I thought they might know something, but that message on the mirror… something told me that the same person might have Susannah now.

Unless this was all just a big misunderstanding and she'd run away. That wouldn't really surprise me.

One by one they appeared. The twin sisters – the most recent victims – Mina, Dana, Lucy and a few others. Amy, I'd noticed, didn't show up, and Isabella, of course, had moved on.

"What's up?" Mina asked in a very chipper voice. I ignored it.

"Have you seen Susannah?"

Mina frowned. "Susannah…" she trailed off, like she was trying to remember.

"You mean the mediator bitch?" Dana supplied.

Frowning, I said, "I would appreciate if you did not refer to her as bitch. And yes, have you seen her?"

Shaking her head, Mina replied, "We haven't gone near her since she got rid of Amy," I had no idea what she was talking about, but I chose to ignore that as well and ask later, "so, no, I have no idea,"

"Can you find out?" I asked, feeling slightly frustrated.

Dana answered coolly, "We can't unless she calls us. Which she won't. She's probably dead right now, if I have any idea of the company she's in,"

I narrowed my eyes. "You could at least try to be a little compassionate! The man who murdered you guys was a monster. I'd hate to think Susannah is with him right now,"

"Correction," she answered sarcastically, "_was_ with him. I can guarantee if he has her, she didn't survive the night. Unless he hasn't figured out how to dispose of her yet,"

I didn't take this answer well. Seriously, I thought, in the whole range of possibilities, he couldn't have her. It was impossible. Who said he was after her in the first place?

Man, denial _never_ works. I knew deep down that's what had happened.

One of the twin girls shot them a look. "For Christ's sake you guys, will you stop it?" and she walked over to me. "It's okay," she murmured, "she'll be fine,"

The other twin said, "Honestly, have you guys got no heart? Can't you see he really cares for Susannah?" I felt myself go red.

"I uh… that's not what it is, I just…"

Mina groaned. "Ugh. Yes it is. Don't even bother denying it man. Look, here's the deal. Say she _did_ make it. She's probably in a living hell right now,"

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"She means," Dana said, "that he doesn't kill us straight away you numb nuts," now I know why Susannah gets into so many fights with them – they are incredibly rude, "First he breaks you. Then he kills you,"

"Breaks?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes, the dramatic mood broken. "I mean, he gets rid of any will of ours to live. He'll torture her, whether it'll be emotional or physical, he'll try to break her down until she gives into her demise a lot easier,"

I denied this of course. "Susannah is stronger than that," And it was true. What I had seen last night, the collapse of _mi querida_, was a once-in-a-lifetime moment where she let her guard down. It's something I may never witness again in my life.

Lucy made a clucking noise. "Can she survive rape? Coz if she can she's like the female terminator,"

The twin closest to me went up and slapped her on the face. "My god, I can't believe you," she said angrily, "I can't believe you are so unfeeling about this! Another girl is suffering the same fate as us and you're _sarcastic_?"

I barely listened. I was trying, in some way, to tap into Susannah's mind. It was impossible, I know, even as a shifter, but I tried anyway. She was alive. I knew that. But could she survive?

I didn't know.

**Suze's POV**

He was sitting at a small wooden table sharpening a knife. If he thought this was the least bit intimidating, he was wrong. Okay, fine, I was a little scared. But I knew he wouldn't dispose of me yet.

If he had of wanted to kill me, he would have done it already. No, he wanted something else from me.

What it was, I didn't know yet, but I knew I wasn't going to like it. So hopefully I could drive him nutty enough to make him realise that I was a major waste of time.

And then when he undid the shackles…

Poor man, that's all I can say. I hope he can learn to crawl, because I doubt he'll be able to feel the lower region all that much. He probably won't be able to walk for a few days, at least.

"Is it true that you were up all night counting sheep, but the smell kept you awake?" I asked, for conversational purposes. Because being locked up inside a dusty warehouse in just jeans and a tank top is _boring_ I tell you. Utterly boring. And very unfashionable. And my hair was probably a wreck. But anyway.

He grunted and ignored me. So I tried another leaf. "Obviously you missed the sign upon arrival. Earth's full – go home,"

Grunting again, he kept sharpening the blade.

"So, this is your pad huh? A little bland, if you ask me. Maybe a few throw pillows, or fake pot plants would work wonders. And maybe you could fix the dust problem?" I asked, as he got up and began walking over to me, knife in hand. Oh, yay. Come and stab poor defenceless me why don't you. Jeez. "Maybe some soft music? Jewel is really good for relaxing. Or maybe a little-" I screamed as the tip of the blade sliced into the palm of my hand.

"What the heck are you doing?" I demanded, as I watched thin ribbons of crimson run down my wrist, pool at the cuff, and then drip over.

"Shutting you up," he replied, and kept carving something into my broken skin. I bit my lip as my eyes watered, fighting the insane mixture between screaming out in pain or dissolving into fits of giggles. It was just funny how something could hurt so much, you know?

"You know what?" I said, "I doubt this will do a good job of it,"

Poking me again with the sharp tip, I groaned in pain.

"Well, this is fun isn't it?" he asked smugly, looking down at me.

I shrugged. "Actually, my idea of fun is being in a cage full of hungry lions,"

Digging the point further into my flesh, he replied, "That can be arranged missy, so shut that smart mouth of yours,"

What exactly could I say to that? Um, the typical response I usually give when I'm chained to a wall and some crazy psychopath is carving my hand for no apparent reason other than the fact he thinks it's 'fun'. Because this happens with surprising regularity in my life.

"Bite me,"

"Would love to," he sneered back.

Uh, ew?

"You know, for someone who doesn't speak a lot, you say a heck of a lot of shit when you do," Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm quoting Save The Last Dance. But I don't think he'd know that. He doesn't strike me as the Julia Stiles type.

"How does anyone cope with you missy? No wonder he cheated on you"

My god. How long has this guy been freaking spying on me? For once, I remained silent.

"Yes missy, I know what happened. And I also know you have the hots for that Spanish dude guy. Sorry you won't ever see him again, but maybe I'll ensure he'll find your corpse. That way, you know you'll be recognised, and given a funeral and such"

Okay. That was low. Seriously low. I still stayed silent, shutting up for the first time in my life. Because he had me stunted. The thought hadn't crossed my mind, but it did now – I wouldn't see Jesse again.

That would suck royal ass. I mean, the guy was growing on me. More than growing on me. I don't think my feelings toward him are what you could call entirely platonic anymore. Not that they exactly were to begin with, we were never friends, per say.

Then again, I wouldn't see _anyone_ again.

That would suck definite ass.

Heck, I would even settle for Paul or Debbie right now. Even if it was to break a chair over their heads in the Jerry Springer show. _(A/N: Thanks to Sam aka Breaking.Benajmin, for that one!)_

But I wouldn't let him win. "So," I said, "what joy are you getting out of this?"

The guy just continued down memory lane. "You were rejected weren't you? You were betrayed,"

I rolled my eyes. "What are you talking about? Latest episode of Passions? Sorry, I missed it. You don't exactly have a TV in here," Or a toilet, but on with the program.

He shook his head. "You cried. You cried so hard. Like a baby,"

"Hey! It's called allergies man. Not my fault I'm allergic to Ralph Lauren's _Cool_."

"Just admit it. Your life sucks," the guy said smiling smugly to himself. I gave him a weird look.

"Yeah. It seriously sucks. Which is why you're here with some girl and torturing her instead of being 37, Lawyer, married with 2.5 kids?"

I am the epitome of maturity in a situation such as this one.

Not answering me, he just walked away, disappearing behind the crates. Twisting my palm around so I could see the damage, I nearly threw up. It was disgusting. Like, I can't believe he just sat there and created it with something you could call clinical detachment. Like a doctor performing surgery.

Except without the scalpel and the heart monitor.

It was really starting to itch too. I really wanted to cover it with something, like a tissue or whatever, but I settled for clutching my hands together, just to stem the flow.

The guy didn't return for some time. Or maybe he wasn't going to. Maybe I was just supposed to starve to death in here, or have an embolism because I have nowhere to pee. Whichever came first.

But when he did return, my stomach flipped. Another young girl, probably around 9 or 10 years old was slung over his shoulder, just as he had carried me. The only difference was that the girl was still unconscious. Chaining her up against the wall to the left using some shackles I hadn't noticed until then, he disappeared again.

Studying her as the girl's head lolled forward, I noticed she was quite pretty for her age. From what I could see through the gloom, she was Spanish, with dark, dark brown hair and skin the colour of brown sugar. _Poor girl_, I thought sympathetically. She is too young to deal with anything he might dish her, whether physical or emotional.

She is too young, period.

But obviously the guy didn't care. If you are female, and had legs capable of opening like a starfish, you were screwed, pardon the pun.

Have I mentioned my situation right now is complete crapola?

**Jesse's POV**

I thought things had come to their worst when the police came to the conclusion Susannah had been kidnapped by Henry Lorence, the serial killer. But it turned out _mi querida_ wasn't the only thing I had to worry about.

He had taken my sister Josefina.

Oh _Dios_, why do you do such harsh things? She is only 9! She has not even lived yet, and you let that… awful man take her too!

My family were at the Ackerman residence giving our condolences when the police informed us. An eyewitness had seen a young girl being carried into a car and driven off towards the far side of town.

"Did they see where the car went?"

The officer shook his head. "No sir, we didn't,"

"_Mierda_," I hissed. My mother slapped my arm, her eyes shining. She was close to tears, you could see it.

_"¡Jesse¡No pronuncie las palabras como eso cuando somos huéspedes!"_

"_Lo siento_" I muttered. "Do we have any leads at all?" I asked instead.

"I'm sorry sir, no we don't," the officer said apologetically.

Running my fingers through my hair I got up and stormed outside onto the patio. This was all so frustrating! It was unfair, I tell you. Incredibly unfair. I couldn't do anything to help. It was like I was tied up, watching some scene unfold in front of me that I couldn't do anything to intervene in. It was like hell on earth.

Instead I called upon Bianca and Jascinta, the twins. They appeared almost instantly by my side.

"What is it?" Jascinta asked, sitting up on the railing.

"It's my sister," I said quietly, "he's taken her too. I need you to look for me. Do you know anyway you can help us find them?"

Bianca shrugged. "We can try doing it the old fashioned way. Looking,"

Jascinta nodded. "Yah, it's not like we have much else to do, being ghosts and all. No sales and the mall and stuff,"

With a smile to me, they dematerialised.

If you thought this would ease my mind, having two ghosts on the lookout for Susannah, you would be wrong. I had to do something. I don't know what, but I knew I had to do it. I walked up to my father and quietly asked for the car keys. He didn't say anything, because I guess he knew why it was. And at that moment I didn't care what he thought. Two people I cared about incredibly were missing.

And if anything happened to them, I would not like to be Henry right about now.

**Suze's POV**

The little girl finally came around a short time later. The first few minutes were fairly tense, with her realising she was chained to a wall etc etc. Finally she noticed me through the tears in her eyes.

"Who… who are you?" she sobbed.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Hi. Another captive, pleased to make your acquaintance,"

She just looked at me. Okay, maybe being cheerful and sarcastic about the situation wasn't the way to go.

"My name's Susannah. Susannah Simon, but call me Suze," I tried instead. She blinked her gorgeous almond eyes, which were a unique shade of blue/green. This is very peculiar for a Spanish girl, but who cares? They were seriously the epitome of 'emeralds', in which my eyes have been called quite a few times. _(A/N: I'm making her sorta look like Aishwarya Rai, from Bride and Prejudice. If you have no idea what who she is or what she looks like, Google her or something)_

But she seemed to like the introduction. "I want to call you Susannah. It's a pretty name. My brother thinks so,"

She must have a twin or something, because I didn't know brothers were _likeable_. "What, you like him or something? Your brother, I mean?"

Seriously, looking back on it, I'm amazed how thick I can be sometimes. The fact she's SPANISH never rung a bell either. It's not like Carmel is overpopulated with Latino people.

Nodding profusely, she said, "Yes. When he's home he'll read me stories before I go to bed, and brush my hair. Although," she giggled, really warming to the subject, "once he tried to braid it and it looked really awful. He's so silly sometimes." Wow. I wish I had a brother that I loved that much. No, instead I have stepbrothers, 2 of which are utter morons.

I smiled weakly. The darling didn't even know what was happening to her. But I decided not to burst her bubble. She would figure it out, in due time.

"So what's your name?" I asked politely, trying to keep her talking. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and it kept my mind off of other things. Such as my bleeding hand, for instance, which I was determined to keep hidden from her eyes.

"Josefina DeSilva,"

DeSilva? Oh god.

I am in the company of Jesse's younger sister.

Jesse, who, only a little while ago, had kissed me. Albeit on the cheek, but whatever. I think it still counts. Jesse, who, without a doubt, loves his sister to death.

His sister who would most probably die very soon. Just like I would.

But at least _she_ was still living in ignorant bliss. Perhaps she was too young to realise that being chained to a wall IS NOT a good thing, especially when you don't remember how you got there. I guess she doesn't pay too much attention to the news. She was probably doing what other little kids her age do, like play with dolls and stuff. Wouldn't it be nice if we still lived in that world?

_(A/N :chews on chips: I really couldn't help myself with that one. The television is blaring in the background with the Cadbury theme song 'Wouldn't it be nice if the world was Cadbury?', advertising Saturday night's movie. I think its Harry Potter. It's only the first one, which I've seen a million times. Anyhoo, on with the show)_

I watched the crates for a sign of movement. I think this was because I dreaded when he came back. Not for what he would do to me, but Josefina. She was a sweet young girl, too young for her innocence to be lost. Of course, my wishing did absolutely nothing – it probably made it worse – because when he returned it was with a butt buddy of his. This wasn't the same guy from before (who I had so lovingly called guy #1) but another, probably just as sick, counterpart. He came straight over to me while guy #2 walked over to Josefina. I watched as she sunk into her small frame, obviously noticinghe was not going to help us.

Far from it darling.

After this realisation, she began crying. Not big baby sobs like Dopey sometimes employs when I sucker punch him just right, but totally silent. I had to give her props for being so brave.

"We are gonna have fun lil girl," he said. She spat on his shoes.

"_Bastardo_," she hissed. He hit her in the face, but she didn't respond to it in the way I think he wanted, which was to completely start crying. Nope. This girl was pretty good at withholding her emotions. Josefina poked her tongue out at him.

Suddenly, the man standing in front of me roughly seized my chin. I shook my head out of his grip. "Uh, hello? Watching," I snapped, and turned my head towards Josefina. The guy did not take this well, and he slapped my cheeks. "Oh, enough with the hitting. You slap like a girl!" I mocked him in an English accent.

So I've seen one too many Austin Power's movies, where he says 'You fight like a woman!' – I doubt Mike Myers would really care.

But whatever. The guy hollered over the other man in front of Josefina, "Henry! I'm unlocking this one,"

'Henry' groaned in frustration and threw him the keys. Only it's too bad for them that I'm not exactly gonna make this little charade easy. Before he caught the keys, I kicked his feet from underneath him with a swift ankle trip. Ah, the pleasures of practicing a martial art. He fell to the floor, and I used the heel of my converses to trap the keys, and kick them over. Doing some handy footwork that required a tad bit of flexibility, I managed to park my sweet ass over them.

Without him noticing.

Oh yes, I am _good_.

The guy got up and gritted his teeth. "You feral!"

Smiling sunnily, I said, "Thankyou! I'm here till Thursday,"

Grating his pearly, er… _yellows_ against each other, he said slowly, "You won't be on my watch," and proceeded to look for the keys. Stupid bloody idiot.

I stayed silent, watching his search fruitlessly for the ring of keys. Then, after a wonderful burst of intuition a normal person like me would call common sense, he looked over at me.

And proceeded to slap me.

"Where did you hide them?" he seethed through his teeth. Just like the saliva did. It was really gross to watch – I am so glad I haven't eaten anything in like… NEARLY 18 HOURS.

He hit me again, and I spagged on his jeans for all it was worth, taking a leaf out of Josefina's book. She's got the whole spitting thing down, I tell you. "Hit me again, and I'll bitch slap you repeatedly until you land in Hong Kong," I said looking at him angrily, my cheeks starting to go numb, "got it?"

Blinking, he drew his fist back, and brought it crashing into my face.

Ugh. Lights out.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

_Stay awake! STAY AWAKE YOU FREAKING IDIOT! DON'T LET THEM WIN! _

That voice I avoided telling my therapist in New York screamed, as I slowly shut my eyes. And it was right. I couldn't give in. I didn't WANT to give up. But my body was making me. It's like I had no control over it anymore, and it was doing whatever the bloody hell it pleased.

My eyes sagged as I stared at the bottom of the pool. Just another body to be found submerged by water.

Isabella was found in the river. The twins were found in a water cleaning system. And I would be found in a pool. Wherever this pool was I had no idea, but did it matter?

I would still die.

Oh well, I thought slowly, at least now I'll know where ghosts go once they die. Sad hey?

Well sorry; I never really got the whole poetic, heroic dying thing. But I do get a lonely and cold death instead, at the hands of a few sick humans, instead of a ghost. I guess it's only fair.

Doesn't God have a really ironic sense of humour? I sure as hell think so. Like, since when has he ever done anything nice for me?

There was another shocking glimmer in front of me, and then a loud whooshing, as if something had just appeared in the water. I felt my head being jerked up, and my cheeks tapped lightly.

My god. WILL PEOPLE QUIT HITTING ME ON THE CHEEKS! Sweet Jesus.

Blowing out the water I had in my mouth, I started fuming. Can't I have a nice _peaceful_ death?

Can't I drown all by myself?

Yeah, yeah, one minute ago I was saying how awful dying alone would be. Because I guess it is. No one, by rights, should die alone. But when the only company they receive starts freaking hitting you-

I felt something soft press against my lips. Opening up my eyes in shock, I saw a flash of jet-black hair, brown eyes… what the heck? I felt something cool being blown inside my mouth. Almost instantly the spinning in my head receded, and everything righted itself.

Someone was passing oxygen into my lungs from their own. How sweet. Can they get me the heck outta here? That's all I care about.

They went to work on the chains and pulled without any luck. Uh, already tried that mate. And then, like a _Cirque du Solei_ show, there were bright flashes of white light, and the ghosts of the girls appeared. One by one they took hold of a section of the iron shackle, and pulled. It was a sight to behold, the nail that was once embedded deeply into the concrete flying out. Without a thought, I propelled myself towards the top, using my feet and kicking as hard as I could. And then, as if it was in slow motion, I broke the surface and gasped in oxygen.

It really is a wonderful thing I tell you. A very wonderful thing. Who needs phones, good-hair days, clothes and hot guys when you have OXYGEN? That is the question.

Slowly swimming over to the side of the pool, drained of energy from my sudden outburst of kicking, I collapsed against the bricks, shutting my eyes and just breathing. I was exhausted, and I felt flat out dead. Even though I wasn't. Far from it. Thanks to…

"_Querida_, are you okay?"

I couldn't reply, I was just concentrating on breathing. In and out. In and out.

There was the sound of dripping water splashing onto the ground, and I was heaved out of the water in a swift motion. Jesus, how do guys _do_ that?

Sagging against him, Jesse held me up while I tried to stop being so dizzy. Just keep breathing and you'll be fine.

"Susannah…"

I couldn't answer him. I was too tired. I just wanted to… wait.

"Where's Josefina?" I asked quickly. Was she okay?

Hugging my head onto his wet t-shirt, he answered, "Fine. She's fine Susannah. At home. Mina and Dana have Henry trapped,"

Nodding my head, I pushed myself away, trying to find my footing. My jeans were absolutely soaked, weighing a ton on my legs. My white tank was a dirty, lost cause. I wanted to get rid of them, but when a guy is in the arena, especially a really hot one, that idea isn't so sound.

I took the opportunity to look around at where I was. It was a small pool outdoors, next to a large old-looking warehouse. That must have been where I was being held. Where Henry had held me for the past day.

"Did you get the other guy?" I asked quickly, remembering the few moments before I was knocked out. "Did you?" I turned around and my jaw dropped.

Before I get all… mushy and stuff lemme just say that yes, I have seen a few very nice male chests in my life. Paul, actually, sported a fairly good one. But nothing – _nothing_ – compared to Jesse's. He had taken off his sopping wet shirtto squeeze the chlorinated water out of it into the pool below. It took a few seconds to realise that I was ogling, and quite obviously at that.

Whatever. You can chastisize me all you want for looking at the way the remaining water droplets dripped down his _very_ defined abdomen. I don't care, because I'll say you're a hypocrite or something. You'd have to be gay if you couldn't appreciate the sight.

It's obvious Jesse had no freaking idea just how hot he was, because he walked over to me with a weird look on his face and asked, "What did you say?" like he couldn't even tell. And maybe he can't.

I hope. Because it'd be really embarrassing otherwise.

"What?" I snapped out of my funk. What had I said? The warehouse, and Jesse's chest, and the shackles… and Jesse's chest, and Josefina and- "The other guy. Did you get the other guy?"

Jesse frowned. "There was another guy?"

I nodded, now starting to panic. "Yes, there was and he-" only in true fashion I never got to finish what I was trying to say because someone grabbed the back of my head and ploughed it into Jesse's.

* * *

"This," I said slowly as I tried to ease out the cramps in my legs from my sitting position – not an easy feat mind you, "is so not how I pictured my rescue,"

Jesse rolled his eyes as he leant against the wall, shaking the chains he was tied to."I'm tired," he muttered.

I snorted. "Yeah. You should get used to the whole constantly-getting-knocked-out thing going on. They have a fondness for it,"

He didn't answer that comment. Instead he said, "Where are we?"

"Nice question. I was about to ask you the same thing," I answered sarcastically.

Lolling his head upwards, he muttered something about "Thank _Dios_ they aren't tight," and vanished. I gasped.

"What the…?"

And almost as soon as he disappeared, he reappeared again in front of me. I blinked.

"Uh… great party trick," I commented, stunned. He grabbed my arm, and told me to close my eyes. I frowned, but did what he said. And when I opened them again, I was home.

Seriously. I was drowning in the pinkness again. Holy shit.

"How in the hell?" I wondered aloud. Jesse shook his head.

"I can't explain it all now, but go downstairs to your parents. They are extremely worried about you,"

"Will you come down with me?" I asked, suddenly feeling a slight headache coming on.

Jesse nodded and took my hand, leading me down the stairs. The reactions were instantaneous.

"Suzie! How in the world?" My mother screeched, as she threw herself onto me, along with the rest of the Ackerman clan.

Ouch.

--- NEXT CHAPTER ---

Finally, after nearly a whole day, I could take a shower in peace. I left Jesse to answer all of the difficult questions – which I would later pummel out of him too – but for now, I was just indulging in the warm water running down my forehead and dripping off my nose. The warmth felt really nice after what? Being beaten, and nearly drowning and so forth.

Licking my lips I felt around in front of me for my bottle of Herbal Essences. Heck, I was so happy to be home I might imitate the girl off of the actual Herbal ad and start screaming, "Yes! Yes! YES!" like I'm going at it in the shower.

I wish.

Breathing in the steam, I ran my hand over the top of the shelf, trying to find the funky pear-shaped bottle when it hit something instead.

Something that felt like hair.

Snapping my eyes open, I found myself staring into Henry's face.

"Hey missy," and with a swift motion, pinned me up against the tiled wall with a single hand wrapped around my throat.

-------------

**A/N: You likie? Well, I had a burst of inspiration and decided to post this up now. That part up there was just a little extract from chappie 11, so yeah, review and you'll see what happens next a lot quicker. And to goth – I AM Australian, but I tend to Americanise my fics on these sites without thinking. I do realise what I'm doing, but because most of the readers are American I don't bother. Thanks to everyone else who reviewed!**


	11. Tell No Lies

Chapter 11 – Tell No Lies

"I am so, so, so sorry Suze, I feel so bad!"

Gina had only been saying that for the like, last 3 hours. Which, incidentally, is how long it took for everyone to simmer down long enough to explain what happened. True, I didn't tell them the whole story, all I said was that Jesse dropped me off and I got caught walking down the driveway.

That still didn't explain to mom why I was the one he had chosen to kidnap, considering I left out the threatening messages, but I managed to convince her it had just been a totally random thing.

Just like Josefina's kidnapping was. When she had finally stopped silently crying into her mom's shirt-front, then her fathers, and then Jesse's, she spluttered about how a strange man had gone up to her in the park, and when she tried to walk away he grabbed her. Poor girl. Although, just to give her credit, I don't think she was nearly as affected by it as her family. The girl was tough. I'd like to think that I'm like that too.

I might appear it on the exterior – which means, lets face it, I'm actually pulling it off and appearing to be tough – I'm not all that much. But the only person in the room who knew that was Jesse, and I was making sure he wouldn't mention it. Seriously, I didn't need anyone else knowing that I'm just like crystal… and I break easy.

There were still heaps of things that had gone unsaid between Jesse and me that I wanted to clear up. The first one being how in the hell he just appeared in the pool and stopped me from drowning. The second being how he could just disappear, and appear several feet away. The third being how in the hell can I do it! I mean, if he's a mediator, I must be able to as well, right?

Trudging upstairs, I shouted that I was taking a shower. Mom was now getting into Jesse on how he found me… and how I just appeared out of nowhere in my room. Yeah, I just left him to all that. I'm really nice aren't I? But whatever, I felt dirty, I felt gross, and I seriously wanted some conditioning done to my hair.

So finally, after nearly a whole day, I could take a shower in peace. I left Jesse to answer all of the difficult questions – which I would later pummel out of him too – but for now, I was just indulging in the warm water running down my forehead and dripping off my nose. The warmth felt really nice after what? Being beaten, and nearly drowning and so forth.

Licking my lips I felt around in front of me for my bottle of Herbal Essences. Heck, I was so happy to be home I might imitate the girl off of the ad and start screaming, "Yes! Yes! YES!" like I'm going at it in the shower.

I wish.

Breathing in the steam, I ran my hand over the top of the shelf, trying to find the funky pear-shaped bottle when it hit something instead.

Something that felt like hair.

Snapping my eyes open, I found myself staring into Henry's face.

"Hey missy," and with a swift motion, pinned me up against the tiled wall with a single hand wrapped around my throat.

Um. Yeah. I was in a shower. I was naked.

And it comes with a complementary serial rapist slash killer.

Shit.

I tried to breathe, but his hand was pressed up against my windpipe. I could barely get the words out, but if I could they would have been along the lines of "Piss off bucko,".

You know, your usual OMG-I'm-naked-and-getting-strangled type reaction.

Feeling his eyes rake over my body, I tried to swallow any disgust rising in my throat. Okay. Fight off asshole. Get modest later. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, Agent Simon.

In a movie this would be the part where, defying all odds – not to mention those of the _gravitational_ persuasion – the chick would deliver a blow to the nose and flip over the guys' shoulder, landing ninja-like and doing a 'YAAAAAHHHH!'

Problem. One, I'm not Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore or Lucy Lui in Charlies Angels Full Throttle. You know, the bar scene at the beginning where they scream and… yeah. Two? I'm butt naked. Not the ideal fighting attire for the situation. Or really any situation.

You even mention the horizontal Macarena and you'll die.

So instead, I just tried to hit him with my fists, while painfully jabbing my elbows into the tiles every time I pulled back. I was gonna bruise.

He grinned, immobilising my body completely from the chest down as he pinned me against the wall, kissing my neck. Oh guh-ross!

A plus side was that the grip he had on my throat had lessened so, so I could say, "You disgust me man, you seriously do." Under the circumstances, I think I withheld myself quite well. Something's happening to me, I can tell. I'm going soft.

And I really need alcohol, like, right now.

"GET OFFA ME!" I screamed as he moved from my neck downward. This was going WAY too far. Wriggling my arms out from underneath him, I slammed my palms on either side of his face, right on top of his ears. She's good.

He stopped and clutched his head, while I took the opportunity to knee his… thigh! I kneed his thigh not once, but 3 times until I was satisfied that he couldn't er… feel them any more. Howling in pain, he sank to the floor of the shower, the water drenching any remaining part of him that wasn't wet.

Oh yeah, and about that same time Gina and Jesse came running in.

Feeling like a deer in headlights, I quickly performed an instinctive manoeuvre. Ya know, the whole, knee-covering-privates, arms-crossed-over-boobs thing. I don't think he saw anything.

Fine. I lie. By the look of his face, he had. But, wallah, now you see it, now you don't. Later I'll try and convince him it had been an – oh-so-wrong – pigment of his imagination.

Besides, it's not like my body is anything special. It's only been seen by a few people and…

I actually don't remember what Paul thought of it, due to be smashed at those certain times. How embarrassing.

Gina's reaction was only a little better than Jesse's once-over-then-quickly-turning-around. She shrieked "HOLY COW!" and ran out of the bathroom to the phone. Plunking in 3 digits, she began screaming into the phone, "HE'S HERE! HENRY LORENCE IS HERE!"

I rolled my eyes in my awkward position, and tried to reach for the towel. Jesse finally got over his initial shock of seeing me in my birthday suit and threw it over his shoulder. Wrapping it around me, I quickly stepped out of the shower and away from the howling heap that was the much-feared serial killer. Seriously, he didn't look quite so intimidating curled up in a foetal position, I tell you.

"What happened?" Jesse asked roughly. I shrugged.

"Uh… shower. Opened my eyes and he was standing practically in my face," _and looking_. I took a moment to shudder at the memoir, before continuing, "when he held me up against the tiles trying to strangulate me," is that even a word, strangulate? I'll let you be the judge, "so I sorta fought against him and kicked him in the… thighs, because I couldn't do the whole Cameron Diaz thing, so yeah, he fell to the floor and you both came in and…"

I looked at the confused expression on Jesse's face and smiled sheepishly. "I'm babbling aren't I?" Well, excuse me, but it is a _leetle_ hard to think straight when a guy is standing a few feet away while you're only wearing a towel. A guy of the hot variety.

He cleared his throat and muttered, "Yah." I'd love to think his state of un-talkativeness was due to my being half-naked and such, but I don't flatter myself on those things.

For some reason I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to ask Paul what he thought of it. I mean, what do guys exactly go for?

And I'm babbling again.

Thankfully, I didn't have enough time to dwell on that, because the Henry guy was finally getting to his feet. Slipping constantly, he began walking towards us, with an expression not unlike that guy taunting Neve Campbell at the end of Scream about her mother. You know the one I'm talking about, where his eyes just seem hollow. And really scary, frightening, like you just want to curl up into a ball and rock yourself to sleep.

Unless of course he's slipping with every second step. Then the horror-factor is lessened so.

Jesse grabbed my shoulders and plugged me behind him, like he was a shield.

"Hey!" I pounded Jesse on the back. "Don't leave me outta this!"

"You," Jesse said quietly, but it did the job and made me stop, "will get out of here understand? I'm not giving him another crack at killing you,"

"But-"

"Do it Susannah," his voice reverberated through me.

I nodded, and backed out. "Fine," I said, a little shrilly for my liking. Then, quickly I slipped on some clothes, grabbed my trusty candleholder – don't ask, it's not like I could resort to the straightener this time – and walked back in. Jesse was talking in low tones to Henry, and surprisingly, Henry was just standing there taking it all.

Upon moving closer, I realised that it wasn't by choice. Mina and Dana had the hair dryer cord wrapped around his throat. They have a good touch, they do.

Ghosts make good bodyguards Suze. I filed away for future reference.

Then, it was like a stampede behind us. Policemen filed in shouting orders and knocking us out of the way. Gina threw herself on me, hugging me so hard I thought I might loose circulation. Mum was clutching Andy and looking on, blinking widely. I mean, seriously, I doubt anything like this has ever happened in her life. AND we have lived in New York.

The police managed to cuff Henry (although they thought the whole cord around his throat was quite scandalous) and haul him out whilst he was screaming insults – the usual 'I'll get you! I'll kill you!' and 'Burn in HELL! ALL OF YOU!'.

Well. I can't believe it isn't butter either people.

Eventually, Jesse and I found ourselves crammed into the police car, to give our 'accounts' of what had happened. Please. All we did was capture a serial killer.

Okay, fine. It is a big deal. But all I wanted was to have a shower. I hadn't even been able to wash my hair! Who knows what had probably started breeding in it since the last time I checked. Whatever, I was in a pretty peeved off mood.

AND they put us in the same car as Henry, who wouldn't be quiet. He was just roaring, saying we'd never get away with it, etc etc etc. I have heard that same bloody speech a million times already.

"Will you for the love of god SHUT UP!" I screeched through the cage separating us.

He just showed me his middle finger. Maybe it was to show me how much it was bleeding.

* * *

Don't ask me how it happened. How, when I had woken up again we were pulled up in front of the same warehouse as before. I'd conked out. I admit, not sleeping for ages does tend to wipe you out royally, and I guess Jesse was in the same boat because he didn't come around until I poked him on the shoulder.

"Huh?" he asked very intelligently when he jerked his eyes open. They lost the glazed, lost look a few seconds later when where we were registered. "What the hell?"

"My point exactly," I muttered. We were alone in the car – the drivers and Henry weren't there. So how in the hell had we gotten back here?

"We should get out of the car," Jesse said quietly, and he grabbed my arm pulling me off the seat behind him. Quietly, he shut the door and looked around. It was completely silent everywhere.

I frowned. "Where is everyone?" I asked.

"Shh," he hissed, and pulled me into the shadows provided by the building. Obviously Jesse had a better idea than me with what was going on, because he grabbed my shoulders and whispered, "You'll stay here. Don't move, try not to make any noise. I'll be right back," before whipping off around the corner.

I didn't even get the chance to tell him that you should never utter the whole 'I'll be right back' sentence. I guess I'm just superstitious that way. Too many horror movies can never be wrong.

And I was right, I realised when I heard the unmistakable cock of a gun and cool metal barrel being pressed up against the back of my scalp.

I froze, holding my breath. I've been threatened with a gun before, make no mistake, but it was only a really small one, and it was at a distance. But no, this – this one, it was fairly obvious by it's weight and number of clicks that it was a fairly large one. I'm betting probably larger than a pistol. And it was pressed up against my skull. Not even a toddler would miss.

"Get up," Henry said hoarsely, "and put your hands where I can see them,"

Huh. Obediently outstretching my palms and placing them level with my head, I stood up, trying not to make any sudden movements. If I thought dirty hair was bad, wait until I HAVE NO FACE AT ALL!

No open-casket funeral for me either I guess.

Man this sucks.

"In," he muttered, poking my head with the gun. I walked like a good girl, back into the place I thought I had escaped forever.

All I needed was a distraction.

Where was Jesse when I needed the guy?

"I'll do everything you say!" I squeaked, turning on my Oscar-award-winning performance once more, "I promise! Please don't hurt me! Please put the gun down,"

I am SO glad there are no cameras here.

But I guess he wasn't as gullible as his old counterpart, who was still locked up, because he said, "Shuddup missy, or I'll blow your head off,"

I gulped. He sounded like he meant it too. Yikes.

He led me back around the crates, to where the shackles were hung in their shining glory on the walls. Oh no he doesn't. Suddenly, I didn't care if I got shot. I WAS NOT going back there. So if getting killed meant I escaped it, so be it.

But I had to time it right, I knew, if I wanted any crack at getting through this alive.

Pushing the gun against my head in reminder, I walked forward. A plus about having the barrel pressed up against your hair is that you can feel the slightest lessening of pressure being applied. And for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, I saying I could feel him take the finger off the trigger. He was getting cocky, thinking I wouldn't escape.

Or perhaps he thought that I thought he was still going to shoot me on the spot if I did anything. Well, sorry man, but I'm not Malibu Barbie.

Taking a few more steps, I silently counted to three and ducked, flinging my leg out and kicking his own feet out from underneath him on the way down. Dropping his gun in surprise, I used the opportunity to kick it over yonder. Rising up, he took a swing at my face, which I ducked, ramming my elbow into his stomach. Yes people, Suze Simon is back. Slamming the back of his neck when he keeled over, Henry plummeted to the floor. I blew lightly on my knuckles, before tugging down the hem of my 'All this AND brains' t-shirt.

He coughed, and rolled onto his back, sounding wheezy. "You bitch,"

I smiled, and propped my foot up on his stomach. "The name's _biatch_. But thanks,"

Henry turned out to be one of those 'never say die' Eveready batteries, because he grabbed my ankle, flung me on my back next to him and straddled me. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh god, you gotta give it up and move on man!" I said frustratedly as I tried to move. Didn't work though. I quit fidgeting when I felt the familiar cold on the underside of my jaw.

"You move even an inch, and you'll be saying goodbye to your orthodontia,"

I remained silent for the first time ever. He seriously, completely and utterly MEANT it. So I didn't move. He cocked the barrel again.

And, like in slow motion, I saw his finger tightening on the lever, pulling it back. I was going to die.

Die because a tiny piece of metal was going to lodge itself in my skull.

I shut my eyes, anticipating it, knowing it was going to happen at any moment when I heard 2 gun-shots.

I felt nothing. No pain.

_Well, duh Suze, your dead. Of course you-_

But if I was dead, then why are you speaking?

_… good point_

Slowly opening my eyes, I saw blackness. And that was it. And a heavy feeling all over my upper body, like a lead weight.

"Susannah!" I felt the weight being pulled off me. It was Henry.

Henry with a large bullet hole in his chest.

I blinked. "What…"

Jesse grabbed me around the waist and propped me up. "_Querida_, are you okay?" he asked shakily as I saw a police officer dart past. I didn't answer him, but instead just stared.

And stared.

Okay Suze. You can stop staring now.

"Susannah, are you okay?"

"Yes," I barely whispered.

Jesse sighed in relief. "Come on," he said slowly, tugging my arm. The police officer bent over and checked Henry's pulse. When he didn't find one, the officer stood up slowly and looked over at me, a pained expression evident on his face. I nodded, and let Jesse tug me along, trying to turn my head. I just couldn't stop staring. I mean, it's quite in-your-face. I'd been imagining how to kill the guy over and over in my head but... in real life it's just too disturbing. Jack on Alias was so right - it's a difficult thing, being there when the door shuts on someone for the last time.

But still, it was so sudden. Like, one minute he's threatening me, I'm waiting for the bullet to hit, the next… gone. Snuffed. Given the flick. Then I started to panic. Most victims of sudden deaths come back.

They come back Suze, you idiot.

Jesse must have gotten what I was thinking, because he wrenched me back, around the crates. And the ever-so-graceful me stumbled a little, and his grip tightened on my arms to stop me from falling. Way to go Simon, I thought as he looked me in the face.

"Susannah... I assure you, he won't come back,"

I stared for a few seconds into his deep brown eyes, trying to ignore the itchiness in the back of my eyes and nose. "How do you know? They come back. They ALWAYS do, Jesse," I choked, blinking back tears.

I am such a retard.

"Shh _querida_, it's okay. I promise you I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you again." Jesse hugged me. I felt stiff, surprised by this gesture, but then relaxed, not bothering to analyse jackshit. Call me lazy, call me tired, but i just couldn't give about anything at that moment.

Which, surprisingly, usually occurs when I'm in Jesse's arms. Which has only happened, oh, i dunno, a handful of times. Yeah.

I just won't ever let the dude know that.

After a few seconds, reality called and I jerked away. "Jesse, why do you care?"

He looked at me blankly. "Come again?"

I shook my head. "I mean, why do you care about anything that happens to me? I'm just Sleepy's little step-sister," Jesse looked at me confused. "Jake's," I extended.

"Oh..." he shrugged. "I don't know,"

Cocking my head, I replied sarcastically. "Well, thanks for the well of information. I'll be going now,"

And ignoring the police, the flashing lights and all that jazz, I strode out of there, with the rest of my dignity somewhat intact. Somewhat. It all fell to pieces when he grabbed my arm again.

"Let... let's just step outside for a second okay?"

I shrugged. What else was I supposed to do? Letting him drag me was a major blow to my ego, but I don't think that there's actually much of it left, after the last few days. You know, with getting kidnapped, nearly drowning, Mina and co saving me, being attacked whilst butt naked in the shower, almost being shot...

It's a wonder I get up in the morning really.

And mum thinks I have anger management issues. That's not even the beginning.

"Susannah... I have something to tell you," Jesse started, sounding incredibly uncomfortable. Like, okay, I know I haven't exactly had the CHANCE to PROPERLY SHOWER in the last couple of days, give a distressed, straw-and-dirt covered girl a break!

Well, maybe not straw, but on with the program...

"When I first met you, you scared me a little," he gurgled out. Oh jeez. It's the I-dobbed-you-in-to-your-parentals speech. This sucks mushrooms. Times two. "But after a while, i realised that it was just an exterior you put up, and that it wasn't the real you,"

My bad. It's the I-dobbed-you-into-Dr-Phil speech.

"So, can you please tell me what happened? What happened that turned you from someone i could understand to one I couldn't in just a few weeks?"

I sighed. "Look, it really is no big D okay? It isn't anything massive. It's between me and Paul,"

"When it affects you, I think other people have something to do with it _querida_," Jesse stated all matter-of-factly. Ugh, spare me the melodrama Jennifer Love Hewitt.

"I don't think so man. If I started telling you everything that happens in my life, there would be no reason to tune into soap operas every day,"

He replied to this with his famous raising-eyebrow-and-looking-at-me-all-analysingly. "I want to know Susannah,"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Seriously man, you don't. And I won't say,"

Dropping the analysing act, he said, "Please, _querida_, I need to know,"

"I'll tell you if you tell me what that kay-reeda word is. I swear I heard Jennifer Lopez say it once, on one of her songs. I'm not sure if you listen to J.Lo, but I'm just wondering in case you do. Do you? I mean, she is Spanish and all-"

"Susannah, shut up,"

I halted. Great. My babbling is getting even worse - I mean, I have to resort to J.Lo to change the subject. Aye carumba.

"Fine. I'll tell you if you tell me,"

"I asked first,"

Okay. This was soo not cool. I don't exactly like being played with. No. Relax Suze. In and out, just like the woman on the Lifestyle channel says.

Blowing out all of my air, my fist started tightening.

OH RELAX GODDAMIT!

"Whatever," I mumbled, clenching my teeth. "You want my sob story? Fine, here it is, footnotes and appendixes included. Make yourself comfortable man, this'll take a while,"

He looked at me somewhat sardonically, but didn't say anything.

"I moved here at the beginning of January. And i hated it. Okay? California sucked, in my opinion. Everyone was just so fake, i could barely stand it. But I learnt to deal, for the sake of my dear mother. I shut my mouth, and moved on with life. Come summer, I had to get a job. Sleepy - Jake to you - recommended me at the Pebble Beach Golf Resort, where I babysat for a few weeks. There, I met the assholic Slater. You following?" I asked, clicking my tongue. He nodded. "Of course, I didn't think he was assholic. Not then. Apparently that's his gift. And it went straight to his head, the bloody egotistical bastar-"

"Susannah,"

"Yeah. So I went out with him. He decided to stay in lovely Carmel. He started taking me to more parties than I had gone to before - usually older people were the hosts - and introduced me to alcohol. It was a way to let go, a way to escape, he told me. And I believed him for a long time. He was the only person I thought could help me get out of the life I had come to hate. Combine that with finding out he was a mediator too and well... you do the math."

I sighed gustily, and sat down on the concrete. "The night you met me... well, I met you, wasn't the first time I'd been arrested by the cops. Our crowd doesn't really do pleasantries, and certainly doesn't care about the well being of others. But I liked that. It suited my attitude. I didn't give a shit, and neither did they. It was all good. And then one night I went to a party - the one where you met Paul - and, well... that was the beginning of what you call my 'changing period'. Even I admit that."

Jesse sat down next to me and rested his head against the wall. "What happened after…"

I rolled my eyes. "Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore okay?"

"Susannah…"

"No." I shook my head, and stood up. "What I want you to understand is that I'm over it okay? Over. It. I swear. So I really don't have to tell you."

Obviously my standing over him was intimidating somewhat – I wish – because Jesse stood up so he was towering over me, as per usual. "And why not? If you are really over it then you should be able to tell me quite easily,"

Bloody smartass. If he weren't so hot I'd punch him in the face, straight in the nose.

"So. How is your sister going?"

Jesse smiled softly at that, his mild annoyance melting away into amusement. "Nice change of subject. I give you props for that one,"

I just raised my eyebrows innocently. I am THE best example of innocence. Remember it.

"She's fine. A little shaken up, but fine. Reminds me of you, actually, Josefina does,"

Raising my eyebrows even higher, I asked, "Really?"

He grinned. "When she was first rescued and asked if she was okay, she replied with a 'Do. I. Look. It?'. I'm presuming you had nothing to do with the sarcasm input?"

I just kept my face neutral. True, we had talked. A little bit.

"Just admit it,"

Shaking my head, I said. "Ask no questions, tell no lies."

It was Jesse's turn to roll his eyes. "Jesus Susannah," He laughed softly. I shrugged. We fell into a silence that was neither uneasy nor comfortable. Sorta half and half. In the end, Jesse turned around and walked over towards the police officers.

Then I remembered.

"Wait," I said loudly. "You never told me what kay-reeda or whatever-it-is means,"

Jesse stared down at me for a very long time, while I tried to read him. As usual, I came up with _nada_ (haha! Spanish word!) except the thought that he was really gorgeous. Thanks brain, for telling me something I wasn't fully aware of.

Then, after what seemed like a year, he finally broke his eyes away from my own and looked down the side of the building. "It means this," he breathed softly. And with a last glance at me, he put his hand on the side of my cheek and was kissing me.

Kissing me. And now I understood that he didn't think I was his little sister.

Go me.

**

* * *

A/N: Sorry this is a little short – I had to cut it off there. And sorry this took a little while… the usual school slash work slash social life sob story. Anyhoo, we're very close to the end, so please review!**


	12. The Importance Of Being Honest

**A/N: Here it is, the 12th chapter of this story, all written in one night by yours truly. Seriously, it's not like I could have gone anywhere. The fact I have serious skin-cancer-inducing sunburns covering the fronts and backs of my thighs makes me stick to every surface in the house. Very painful, but I'll live, in case you were, you know, worried or something lol. In continuation from the last chapter, there's fluff in this one. Hope you likie.**

Chapter 12 – The Importance Of Being Honest

-----------------

Then, after what seemed like a year, he finally broke his eyes away from my own and looked down the side of the building. "It means this," he breathed softly. And with a last glance at me, he put his hand on the side of my cheek and was kissing me.

Kissing me. And now I understood that he didn't think I was his little sister.

Go me.

**--------------------**

Remember that time I was still going out with Paul, way back before I found out everything? That dream I had? In it I had marvelled at just how great a kisser Jesse was.

Well, I was wrong.

He was even better.

Not that Paul wasn't good. He was. But when Paul kissed you, if felt as if he was draining you of energy, but at the same time you couldn't get enough. With Jesse, though, it was the complete opposite. I had not felt so safe and protected anywhere else in my life. So, I kissed him back quite freely, enjoying how his hands felt on my cheeks, how soft his lips were as they caressed my own.

And then, like a large bubble, Paul's voice entered my head.

_I can't believe I was ever with you… you're an ugly whore anyway_

Then I remembered. Oh god. What am I doing. WHAT AM I DOING?

I broke away. Jesse looked at me confused.

"What's wrong?" then it dawned on him, "I'm sorry, I just figured…"

I shook my head. "It's not yo-"

"It's me," Jesse finished sarcastically. "What's really up?"

Backing away from Jesse, I could feel my hand trembling. "Uh…"

_You seemed to have trusted Paul…_

Now it was Jesse's turn to voice what my subconscious had not forgotten.

I couldn't do this. Not again.

Swallowing and trying to think of a pliable excuse, I instead blurted, "I can't drag you down. You don't deserve it," Jesse just stared at me blankly. "I'm going now," I spluttered quickly, running around the warehouse, and, dodging the police cars, ran off down the road ignoring the 'hey!' shouts of the officers standing around. The last half an hour had been so confusing. What had happened? How had I heard 2 gunshots, but Henry was the only one hit, and once at that? My eyes started watering uncontrollably as I bit my lip, trying to stop the tears from coming. But it was pointless.

Jesse didn't know. He didn't know about what I had done, or what happened with Paul, or anything like that. He didn't know me. I couldn't let him get involved with me only to find out these things and leave in disgust. Maybe my concern wasn't really for him, but for me.

Because kissing him had awoken some harsh reality in my mind. I liked him. I mean, really, _really_ liked him.

It hadn't been obvious to me for those first few weeks, but it was as clear as day now.

But this revelation didn't do much for me. I wasn't about to get into another relationship. It was only at the prospect of this did I see just how affected I had been by Paul cheating. True, I hadn't seriously had much of a grieving period, considering Henry and all, but heck, I thought I could trust him.

I had trusted him. Albeit not completely, but a lot more than any other male in this world, apart from my father. But even my father couldn't drop in and visit me during my mid-life crisis. He's probably taking the back seat and chowing down on popcorn.

Hurriedly wiping my eyes, and totally cursing my parents on never getting me a cell phone, I located a public phone and reversed it. I know, it's a little generic, making the receiver pay for the call, but I'm sure Gina would understand.

"G," I breathed, continually glancing around at the empty street, "I need a car,"

There was a long silence. "Girl, you've been kidnapped once, it almost happened again in your bathroom, and now you're calling me from a payphone? I want answers dammit!"

I sighed. "I can't give them right now. Please, can you get the car and come get me? I have to go,"

She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Go. Right. Suze, babe, I've barely seen any of you since I came down and now your leaving? If anything, I'm coming with you."

"But-"

"No buts babe, or I'm kicking your ass. Where are you?"

Looking at the street signs to my left, I muttered, "Rundle street. Just, please, get here soon okay?"

"Whatever. I'll be there in 10. And when I pick you up, you're giving me answers. I'm so sick of living in the dark!"

"Gina. Shut up and get here," I said before hanging up.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, are you gonna spit it out or what?" Gina asked impatiently.

I shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

The look on Gina's face told me that she'd love to crash the car right now, if that was the opportunity to knock some sense into me. "Everything. Why this guy is following you? How Jesse found you. Why I picked you up at Rundle street when you should have been at the police station?"

I smiled weakly. "Half of those I can't tell you,"

Gina slapped the steering wheel. "Why the bloody hell not?"

Sighing, I answered, "Because only Jesse knows them. And well… I won't exactly get the chance to talk to Jesse. Ever again,"

"Quit the melodrama girl and just tell me! What's happened between you and Jesse? Thought you guys were friends and all,"

I didn't say anything. Then she started laughing. "My god, you aren't all weirded out about earlier today are you?"

Frowning at her, I said, "Uh… details, please."

Groaning impatiently, she said, "Him seeing you naked and everything. Like, no offence Suze, but you're not exactly innocent anymore,"

"It's not that,"

"Then what?"

I just didn't want to say it. She'd probably laugh or something. I know Gina's my best friend, but she isn't cut out for the whole soap-opera type thing.

Leaning my head against the glass window, I recognised the surroundings. "Gina! Where are we going?"

Looking guilty, she admitted, "You really need to get home right now. You're a wreck. Running away won't do anything for the system,"

I glared at her. I can't believe she had done this.

So I gave her the silent treatment. We arrived home; I got out of the car, and kept silent whilst mom and Andy were fawning over me, asking what happened. I told them I didn't know, and ran up the stairs before they could ask anything more. I needed to get out.

Quickly scribbling a note saying I was leaving for a little while, and to not bother finding me, I grabbed a bag and threw in every item of clothing my grasping hands could reach, plus all the other boring stuff I'd need but you don't need to know about, including a few trusty bottles of you-know-what. Chucking the bag onto the window seat, I'd grabbed my purse when I felt a weight shift from my neck. Looking down, I saw the circular pendant that had been sent to me lying on the floor.

Its previous owner had been the only person I could trust, according to my father.

_Monday morning hesitate_

_Can't get out of bed_

_I'd rather go back to the dreams_

_Living in my head, yeah_

Picking it up, I looked at it sadly, the Egyptian figure shining in the light. "Sorry dad," I breathed, feeling my eyes itch, "I never found whoever they were. I've needed your help, and you weren't there. Let's face it, you never have," I felt a tear move slowly down my cheek as I glanced around my room, "I'm sick of having to live this life. I'm sick of being let down. And," I threw the pendant onto the floor, "I'm not putting my faith in a stupid necklace."

And with a deep sigh, I opened up the bay windows, landed softly onto the porch roof.

Silently making my way towards the car, I grabbed the keys I'd swiped from Gina, threw myself into the front seat and quickly drove away before anyone knew what was happening. They'd realise I'd gone, I knew, after only a few minutes. So I decided to use those few minutes to my advantage, and have a clean escape while I had the chance.

_Tuesday evening packed my bags_

_And headed out the door_

_I left a box of memories_

_Lying on the floor, yeah_

Being just after midnight, it was completely dark, the only light surrounding me being the light up of the dashboard, streetlights and the headlights of other vehicles. I couldn't help but wonder what the people in those cars were doing. Were they being wusses, and running away, like I was?

Did they take the easy way out when the shit hit the fan?

_Ride on_

_Ride till early morning sun_

_Ride on_

_Like the dawning of the day_

The streetlights were beginning to space out now, becoming less and less as the roads began to get thinner, but my mind wasn't on where I was going. I knew where I was going, somewhere inside. Using the inside of my wrist, I wiped a few stray tears away.

What had happened to me, over the course of a month and a half? It was like my world had been tipped off its axis since that night I'd first met Jesse.

Of course everything led back to him didn't it?

More tears dripped down, and I didn't even bother to get rid of them. It's not like anyone could see them. See them and laugh at me over them.

Cold-hearted Suze had been diagnosed as mush in a few matter of weeks.

_It's too late_

_To let all your feelings show_

_Go on_

_Till the night has crept away_

The people I'd counted as friends had ditched me faster than anything. It was like they'd given me a choice, just like that chick on that show Veronica Mars. Put up with what Debbie and Paul did, or I don't.

I didn't. But the funny thing was, I didn't miss them. Not at all. I didn't need anyone. All I had was myself. I was the only person I could count on.

And I was just going to have to live with that.

_Running from the city lights_

_Running from this empty life_

_I'm running out of time tonight_

_I'm screaming out for help_

_Help_

And the whiplash you receive from only being able to count on yourself is the fact you have to ignore everything else, and see the world in black-and-white, instead of shades of grey. There were no shades of grey. Not anymore.

So yah, my feelings for Jesse? They were just going to have to fade away, in due time. Because I couldn't act on them, like I wanted.

I wouldn't act on them.

I saw the sign, and the fork in the road. If I turned left… it would lead back to Carmel. I couldn't go back. Not just yet. I needed to grow a backbone again. To the right led to the place I needed to go. So, without a moments hesitation, I veered right, and into the darkness.

_Slow down, you're moving too fast_

_Go home, you'll feel better for it_

_Oh boy, you better stop dreaming _

_It's all in your head_

_Cos its too late now_

I don't know how long I drove. I drove until the pitch darkness surrounding me began to turn a slight purplish-blue colour, and visibility began to grow. I was getting closer to where I was heading. When I'd first gotten there, it hadn't seemed quite so far. True, I had been with Paul at the time, but I guess when you're on your own time just stretches, moving at a snails pace.

The sky was beginning to light at a faster rate now, gold and orange now joining the hues of purple and blue. Pulling up, I shut off the engine and just sat there, looking out of the windscreen, taking a few sips of the trusty tequila I had taken. Smiling softly as I felt the warm liquid ooze down into my chest, I sat back and breathed in the salty air.

_Ride on_

_Ride till early morning sun_

_Ride on_

_Like the dawning of the day_

_It's too late_

_To let all your feelings show_

_Go on_

_Till the night has crept away_

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Someone was tapping on the window.

And it was annoying.

"Piss off…" I muttered groggily, sitting up a little and opening my eyes. Bright sunlight filtered through the windows, bathing me, warming me up.

The tapping increased.

Looking up, I only jumped about 6 feet, before opening up the door and staring at him furiously.

"What… how did you find me?"

Jesse looked at me sceptically. "Gina, actually. You have no idea how sick with worry your family is. They've been looking for you all night."

This news came to a surprise to me, but I didn't comment. Why was he here? Why?

Why before I could get over it all?

I glared at him, and he turned on the puppy-dogs.

Why does he have to be so goddam hot?

"What did Gina tell you?" I finally asked.

He squinted a little against the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the waves. "Took a little bit of working out on her part. She went through all of her old letters, brainstorming places you could have gone to. We tried the point, but she said it was too obvious. You would have gone as far as possible. Then she figured it out."

I looked at him expectantly. "So? How?"

While he looked at me, I studied his eyes. They seemed barred, like they were hiding something. "She said you would have gone to the last place you felt happy. Before life in Carmel had gotten jaded. One of your escapades with Slater, I believe,"

I shut my eyes, cringing. True. So true. I had to give kudos to my best friend. She was smart, and didn't miss a thing.

Instead of looking at Jesse, which was pretty much a solid reminder of what I was trying to get away from, I glanced around at the surroundings. Then I noticed something.

"Hey… how did you get here anyway?"

Jesse shrugged, and sat on one of the benches on the cliff, which was overlooking the ocean. There wasn't anything, exactly, that made this place so different from the ones in Carmel, but it was true. It had been the last time I'd felt truly happy. Paul had taken me here while he was still on vacation at the Pebble Beach Resort. We'd gotten lost on our way to another place, and ended up stopping here instead.

I thought he was so perfect. A funny, wonderful, good-looking boyfriend.

I was so wrong.

Slowly walking over to the bench, I sat down next to him. "Jesse, there are so many things that have happened in the last couple of weeks… even months, that I'm not proud of. California changed me in many ways. Though I don't regret _everything_, most I wish never happened. I'm still confused about so many things… I don't want you getting caught up in all of that. You deserve someone who isn't covered in issues from head to toe."

He didn't answer, and just looked straight out at the waves.

I sighed uncomfortably, and stood up. I'd just gone and made a total idiot of myself.

"I thought we'd both made an understanding that you could tell me those things," Jesse said.

I blinked, and stared at the ground. "Paul is still a sore subject with me. I don't feel like talking about it to anyone,"

"No, you see, that's the thing with you Susannah!" he retaliated loudly.

"What is?" I challenged him, turning around. He stood up.

"You think that you're fine, and that you don't need anybody. But you can't always be so independent. You have to let go sometimes. You have to have faith in other people-"

"That's where you're wrong," I interrupted, taking a step forward. "I _did_ trust someone. And he spat in my face. So don't start lecturing me on that, because you have no idea-"

"Because you won't tell me!" he said exasperatedly.

I breathed for a few seconds, just like I'd been told to. "I have been fine on my own for 17 years. I don't see any reason to change my ways,"

He actually laughed at that one. "I don't think," he said angrily, "that's true. Had Mina not found you chained to that swimming pool, you'd be a little dead right now Susannah,"

"What?"

I could see he was going to turn sarcastic, but then he noticed the look of genuine concern on my face and dropped it. Dropped his voice a few octaves too.

"Mina found you, and came back to me, telling me where you were. She then took me, and transported me to you. I thought you already knew this,"

Shaking my head, I sunk onto the ground, too tired to stand up anymore. "I have no idea what's gone on the past few days. There are giant potholes everywhere. Take last night for example – I don't know what happened after I shut my eyes in the car. I have no idea how we ended up at the warehouse. How you seemed to know what was going on and I didn't. How come there were two shots, but only one casualty, when he'd been about to blow my head off," I breathed heavily, putting a stop to my babbling. And those questions weren't even the half of it. Jesse being a mediator anyone? Hadn't even begun to crack that egg.

He sat back down, facing me. "What do you want to know?"

Don't even get me started.

"Okay. How did you find me the first time?"

Rubbing his forehead, he began tiredly, "I didn't know you had gone missing until the next morning. So I consulted the ghosts of the victims, and they told me a few details about what you might be going through. Then Josefina was taken as well," he looked pained at the memory, "and I knew we had to act fast. I knew you were tough, but I didn't think she'd be able to handle nearly as much,"

"So Mina eventually found us, and yadayada, we know the rest of that chapter." I concluded. He nodded. "Okay. Next question. What happened last night?"

Jesse looked at the ground a little, as if remembering. "I knew something was wrong as soon as we saw the disappearance of both the police officers and Henry. It's never a good sign, especially since we were at the same warehouse as before. So I hid you, and went around the side. There were a few entrances, which I already knew the whereabouts of. I was intent on making sure Henry couldn't get near you again,"

Aww. How sweet.

"Since it's obvious that he won't rest until he's done what he wants with you,"

Jesse and I both shuddered.

I searched all around the warehouse, when I heard the police pull up. When I returned, you had gone. I knew that you wouldn't have gone, purely because you usually do what you are told in situations such as these," I resisted the urge to say something smart, "and followed a few of the police into the warehouse. There were 2 gun shots. One was from the police officer. And one was from Henry."

Self-consciously rubbing my jaw, I asked, "How did Henry miss? I mean, it's impossible right?"

Jesse shrugged. "I guess the bullet from the police knocked him off balance, and his bullet went somewhere else. Later when I asked the police, they told me that the car we were in had been ambushed by the other person Henry was working with, aside from his original one still in jail. Henry took over driving the car once the two policemen were injured, and drove us to the warehouse, and went into hiding. Who knows why, but the other police caught Henry's partner on the run and arrested him. So it's all over…"

I breathed a sigh of relief, noting that he'd left out the kissing part. Maybe that hadn't been so important after all. Who knows? Things were finally over. Sure, I was still waiting for Henry's ghost to show up so he can have a welcome back fiesta, but Jesse assured me that it wouldn't happen.

"Why not?"

He looked at me innocently. "He just won't. Why? Did you want him to?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be stupid,"

Standing up, I leant against the car. "Just one more question," Jesse nodded. "You being a mediator. Spill,"

He sighed, like he knew this question was going to come up. "I'm not a mediator. I'm a shifter. I can move throughout the different dimensions, like Time, the shadowland-"

"Shadowland?"

"I believe you're familiar with that place. Corridor, with no ceiling or floor, lined with doors," I nodded, and looked at him in a how-did-you-know? type way. "I do have contact with the other ghosts of Carmel you know,"

"Oh,"

"I can also shift to wherever I please, hence the reason why I could get out of the binds when that second guy caught us,"

"Right,"

Leaning against the guardrail, I kicked a few stones with my sneaker. This was uh… a very uncomfortable silence to behold. "So let me get this straight," I said, "you're _aren't_ a mediator," he shook his head, "you're a shifter," then he nodded, "so what in the hell is a shifter, exactly. Like I know you can move through all those dimensions and whatever, but seriously, what are they?"

"A descendant of ancient Egyptian shamans, who could also communicate with the dead. We are like mediators, but a little more,"

I cocked my eyebrow. "We? Uh, dude, in case you haven't noticed, I can't do the whole dimension-hopping thing like you,"

"Course you can. You just don't know how to,"

"Wait, so I am a shifter as well?" I asked incredulously, finally getting it.

"Uh, yes,"

I straightened up, and kicked the stone through the gap between the dirt-ridden ground and the guardrail. "See, I have a minor problem with that. I've been told I'm one thing my whole life and then you show up and start handing out leaflets: 'Egyptian Shamans: How You Can Be One Too!'" I imitated a showman voice.

He just did a half-hearted shrug. "I just knew that you were a shifter when I saw you fighting Trista and Greg. By rights, that fall should have killed you, even if the branch was there to break most of the impact."

I blinked. "Oh. I just presumed that my wonderful gift of being a mediator came with a complimentary tough hide, so we could put up with their superhuman powers,"

Jesse stood up and walked over to where I was. Looking dumbly up at him, I found myself staring into my pendant. "My necklace!" I yelped in surprise, "how did you get that?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Jesse asked matter-of-factly. I shook my head. "I sent this to you,"

Raising my eyebrows, I replied dumbly, my ego deflating by the minute, "Of course you did. How many other Egyptian descendants do I know around here?"

Jesse chuckled a little. "Probably not too many. Want this back on?"

I nodded, and kept my head down as he leant over, doing up the catch behind my neck. Inside there was a raging war going on.

_Just kiss him goddammit!_

No. I can't.

_Uh… yes you can._

No. I can't. I promised myself I wouldn't get into another relationship so soon.

_Oh for the love of god just kiss the guy already!_

"The person I told you that you should trust, they gave you that necklace," I whispered my fathers' words without thinking. He'd known. He'd known, and hadn't bothered to share the memo with his own alive daughter.

"What was that?" Jesse asked, as he finished putting it on and stood back a little. I shook my head furiously.

"Nothing,"

Jesse was the one I could trust. Like, jeez Louise, why didn't I figure it out earlier? Seriously, he was a shifter, just like me. He was there to witness the first-ever Suze Simon breakdown. He saved me from that psycho Henry dude.

But he deserved way more.

"So, where is Mina and the rest of her death squad?" I asked quickly, changing the subject. Jesse smiled simply.

"Haven't you heard? They've moved on, because of Henry's death. It's what they wanted."

"All of them?" I asked in disbelief, thinking back to the original 6, minus Amy, who had gone the easy way, as well as Isabella, who had moved on after her funeral, and the twins.

"All of them," he answered, "Carmel is officially murder-victim free. For now," he added in an undertone.

"That's awesome," I punched a fist into the air. "No more ghosts trying to kill me. _That_ I'm happy for,"

"Susannah, we need to talk about last night," Jesse started looking serious.

Play dumb Suze. Play dumb! "What about it? I thought you said Henry was dea-"

"Not about that," Jesse interrupted, staring down at me.

I sighed. "Look, Jesse, that was a mistake. I can't… I can't let you do it,"

Breaking off the staring competition, he looked out over the ocean. "Is it the age thing?" he guessed.

"No, although the fact your friends with Sleepy is a little weird,"

"Then what is it?"

"I've already told you," I said, probably sounding slightly frustrated, "I don't want you being with someone so messed up. Which I am. You deserve better,"

He rolled his eyes. "Susannah, please don't pull the whole 'you deserve better' line. I know you, and even though some of the things you have done I don't really agree with, we can work through them,"

I stared up at him. He was serious. "No, I mean, heck you can have any girl you want. Any one of them. So why me, someone you'd actually have to figure out? Why not someone easy?"

Jesse bent down so his head was level with mine. "I don't want anyone easy. And I know that you're real, and not some fake"

"You do realise what you're getting yourself into right?"

He nodded simply. "Yes, I do. And I don't care what's happened in the past _querida_. Because that's what it is. In the past,"

"Jesse?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me already" and throwing aside any thoughts, ideas or what I knew was right and wrong, I dragged his head down, meeting his lips with my own.

Because, really, that's what any sane girl would do. And I don't want to disappoint you.

**A/N: Please review, if not for this last chapter, then for the story. To everyone who's ever reviewed this story, thankyou so much. I would have stopped a long time ago without your words of encouragement, your humorous comments, your nagging for me to update :). I love you all – in a non-gay way of course. **

**I might do a sequel in early 2006, but for now I'll be concentrating on my other stories.**

**Have a great Christmas, an awesome New Year… and don't do anything I wouldn't.**

**Love the Cee-ster xoxo**


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